A Flicker in the Dark

by Stacy Willingham

My industry thrives on clichés—I know it does. But there’s a reason clichés exist. It’s because they’re true.

Without any houses to illuminate the roadway or floodlights to reveal the twisting arms of the trees that line the street, when the sun goes down, this road gives the illusion of driving straight into a pool of ink, disappearing into a vast nothingness, falling endlessly into a bottomless hole.