[center][h1][color=#ff9900]Luclie[/color][/h1][/center]

[color=#ff9900]"GOD FUCKING--"[/color]

Luke ripped off his helmet and threw it down. It bounced off the pavement and rolled toward the smoking wreck that was now his beloved bike. Gripping his hair and pulling it between his fingers, he paced on the side of the road, trying to process what just happened. A semi who CLEARLY had no idea how to drive - an erratic swerve to avoid a face full of truck, and a hail-Mary leap to avoid a body full of redwood. Really, there was no reason why he should still be alive right now, but in the moment that thought didn't process. All he could think was that he was now essentially stranded here, still far from his destination but too far away from home to know where he was.

The echo of the bell rang in his mind as he paced. That beautiful sound, a dance of colours like he'd never experienced, hues he couldn't even put words to. He needed to find it. He needed to know what it meant. Luke pulled out his phone and stared at it for a moment as he considered calling his wife to beg her to come find him - no, that wouldn't be fair. No reason to drag her into things that he didn't understand - she'd bring the baby, of course. She never went anywhere without the baby. No, it's much better to keep them out of things for now.

But that didn't fix his current situation. He gripped his phone as he continued to pace, racking his head to think of someone he could call for help - but all of them were back home in Arizona. No one knew where he was, and of what few people he knew would come find him, he couldn't think of a single soul he wanted to drag into whatever he was getting himself into.

What about the police? He could call 911 - but they would ask questions. They would call his wife. [i]Fuck, someone else probably called 911 after seeing what happened.[/i] Luke let out a wordless shout as he realized the best course of action was probably to get as far away from the wreck as possible.

What if he flagged down a motorist? Hey, I need to get to the nearest bus station - but then they would ask questions, wouldn't they? People don't just pick up hitchhikers, especially not those standing next to a smoking motorcycle accident. Another wordless shout.

Luke put away his phone and looked around. There was a sign advertising the nearest exit... half a mile away. Fuck, at least it's in the direction he was headed. Taking a deep breath to ground himself, he started walking down the shoulder of the road toward his new destination, kicking the helmet further into the forest as he passed.

[@Pirouette]