The sounds of fireworks seemed to never end, as the thin line between reality and the truth seemed to never end. As he stared off at the sunset closing to the darkness despite the hint of light as he rolled in his Chevy around the lake— again, again, and again.

His eyes focused on the distance as he let out small breaths with ever roll, the rocks against rubber, the lake—nasty as it is, his hand strumming slowly against the wheel, trying to distract his already intrusive thoughts, going from Sally, to Max, to his father to Kiowa.

Every so often his hand twitched as the sound of fireworks popping off late-night but even then, this town has there quiet and loud moments for such a small town nonetheless but now? It felt even more quieter, yet loud— yet distant all the same, and all the more another reason why he kept it to himself.

Wo could he tell about a story? Max was dead, sally? Married, and his father? He preferred to be quiet, about anything really related to his own experiences.

He saw someone faint yet still there, waving a hikers thumb around a seemly broken down car, as his gaze finally landed on something other then the repetitive view of the Lake, the pier and whatever came next.

He rolled closer and closer, slowing down slightly. As he tried to get a good view on who seemed to be attempting to flag down someone.