By D. SNAI
Every evening, John drove along the steep, winding road that curved along the sandy coast of Visara City. And every evening, he saw the same man standing in the same spot, staring at the traffic with an unsettling stillness.
At first, John brushed it off as coincidence. But the more he noticed him, the more the man seemed less like a passerby and more like someone searching - waiting - for something.
One afternoon, on his way to visit his aunt, John's curiosity finally got the better of him. He slowed, rolled down his window, and called out, "Hey, man are you looking for something?"
The man didn't answer. His eyes remained locked on the road ahead.
And then it happened. A truck roared too fast around the bend, slamming into an oncoming car with a deafening crash. Metal shrieked, glass burst, and a wave of panic rippled through the gathering crowd.
John jumped out of his car and ran to the wreck. Inside lay a small boy, limp and bloodied. His heart sank - the child was gone.
But when John lifted his head, his breath caught.
Just a few feet away, the silent man stood in his usual place. And beside him - holding his hand - was a child. The same child John had just seen lying lifeless in the wrecked car.
The boy's face was pale, his eyes hollow, but he stood quietly as if he had always been there.
John staggered back, shaken to his core. Had the man been waiting for his child all along? Or had he been waiting for the moment when the living and the dead would stand together?
The man's gaze finally met John's. Cold. Knowing. And then he and the child simply faded into the sea breeze.