The Story of Desert Hitchhikers

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

"Oh! My dear friend, I'm so sorry to have brought you to my place in such a heavy snow. Please have a cup of coffee to warm up. You see, although it's freezing outside, thankfully no one will bother us. Come, lean back in that rocking chair and continue our conversation from the past few weeks."

"The authentic Blue Mountain coffee from Fafnir is quite good, isn't it? Rich and aromatic. Enjoying it in this weather would be a real treat. Oh... I'm sorry, my friend, I've gone a bit off-topic. Where did we end our conversation last time? Right, we were talking about the dangers of humanity, weren't we? We had a heated debate about it. But I'm glad we've reached an agreement again."

"I remember a friend once told me: Human behavior is the most terrifying thing. And terrifying behavior can be roughly divided into five types: 1. Ordinary people doing ordinary things; 2. Ordinary people doing dangerous things; 3. Dangerous people doing ordinary things; 4. Dangerous people doing dangerous things; 5. Dangerous people living ordinary lives."

"My dear friend." You're making that pouty face again; it seems you don't quite agree with this theory. That's understandable. But please let me finish. I'll argue my point. "

As my former friend once said, the danger of the first four is incomparable to that of the fifth; there's a difference in quality and quantity. But unfortunately, my scholar friend will never be able to prove whether his theory is correct or not. One day in early March, he accidentally let a curious salesman into his basement, so he has to spend the rest of his 781 years in Capri Heavy State Prison. If he has the potential of a tortoise."

"But it's a real shame about his collection, isn't it? It seems to illustrate the fly-like harm of salesmen, haha."

"Alright, alright. Let's not talk about these creepy, boring things anymore; let's get back to the point. Alright, let me tell you one last story on this winter night, delicate and subtle, just like how we've maintained this harmonious relationship for the past few weeks, with an unexpected yet logical ending." "As the snow outside plays its accompaniment, let's conclude these past few weeks of gatherings. I think you'll be satisfied with this ending."

"Let me think... the story should take place in the heat of summer, at night. Ha, let's add a touch of warmth to this cold winter night! A young man, let's call him Dave. He was driving along Highway 14, feeling utterly miserable—you know what it means to break down in the Shala Desert of Vicarage, California. But he was also lucky; soon he saw a light on the highway… Young Dave gave a thumbs-up, gesturing for a hitchhike to a passing car.

Just when he thought all hope was lost, the car slowed down, its taillights flashing, and slowly reversed beside Dave. Oh, only then did he realize the driver was a woman. A woman, even better," Dave thought, spitting out a mouthful of saliva. He felt incredibly lucky.

The woman in the car leaned over the front seat and opened the door.

“Want a ride?”

“Of course.” Dave jumped in without a word, tossed his canvas bag onto the back seat, and closed the door. The car's cold air hit him, instantly freezing his sweat—a wonderful feeling for him.

“Thank you so much for the ride. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“How did you end up all alone on Highway 14?” she asked, starting the car again.

“It’s funny, my car got a huge hole in it from those nasty cacti, and I didn’t have a spare tire, so…you should have seen that beige car parked on the side of the road.” “Yes

, I saw it. Looks like you’ve walked almost a kilometer along this highway.” “Really?

I didn’t think so. Luckily it’s nighttime; walking on a desert highway isn’t too bad.” “

You’re very optimistic,” the woman complimented.

Dave then took a closer look at the woman; she was wearing knee-high boots, jeans, and a faded blue shirt.

Every move she made was graceful, from her way of speaking to her tanned skin to the way she combed her hair—everything was natural and proper, even her fair fingers exuded elegance.

“Where are you going?” the woman asked with a smile when Dave looked at her.

“Tugosen.”

“Good, I’m going there too.”

“Huh? Why aren’t you taking the main road? What are you doing in this desolate place?”

“Oh…” The woman’s smile was a little unnatural, a hint of embarrassment showing on her slightly flushed face.

“What I’m going to do is… oh, not very legal.”

“Is that so?” Dave asked warily.

“I want to steal cacti,” the woman said, and her relaxed expression afterward suggested it wasn’t a lie.

“I have a strong fascination with cacti.”

“What?” Dave laughed. “You mean you came to this desert just to pick a few cacti?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I sincerely hope you don’t get caught by the state police.”

The woman forced a smile; after all, it’s never pleasant to have your hobby laughed at.

“A good variety, I found it last week.”

“My God!”

“A really good variety.”

“Well then, to thank you for giving me a ride, I’ll help you steal some cacti. It’ll also be a good way to get revenge for puncturing my car.” Dave smiled.

“But I only brought a shovel.”

“Oh, I saw you when you put your bag down. I don’t understand why you brought a shovel, but I was too embarrassed to ask.” Dave looked into the woman’s eyes and smiled. He found it very interesting. It was incredible that a woman would go to such lengths to come to the Shala Desert to dig up a few cacti. “You know, although I’ve seen many strange things, I’ve never seen anyone stealing cacti in the desert in the middle of the night.” Dave couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Now you’ve seen one.” The woman didn’t laugh; the pale moonlight gently shone on her serious face.

They were silent for a while. Dave couldn’t figure out her true purpose. His greatest wish was to leave this desolate, godforsaken place, while she seemed determined to venture into this barren land. Dave was finding the woman's quirky charm increasingly endearing.

"Are you hungry?" the woman asked. "How about a late-night snack?"

"Sure, I never mind dining under the moonlight with a beautiful woman," Dave thought to himself, trying to be a gentleman.

"There's a paper bag on the back of your car with some sandwiches and drinks. Oh, and beer too, you don't mind beer, do you?" the woman replied with a smile.

"Are you mocking me?" Dave reached behind his seat and picked up the bag. The sandwiches emitted an enticing aroma.

"Why don't we pull over to the side of the road? Maybe we can have a moonlight picnic in this desert."

"That's a great idea."

The car turned left, skirting a huge cactus ball, rolling over some smaller cacti, the wheels rustling through the sand. Finally, it stopped behind a pile of rocks.

"After we finish eating, I can even help you steal some cacti,"

the woman said, glancing at Dave somewhat uneasily before smiling. "Okay, let's do that."

As soon as they opened the car door, a wave of heat hit them. They got out, Dave carrying a paper bag. They sat down on a large rock. The woman leaned gently against him.

"I hope you like these sandwiches; they're made with top-quality beef and lazzarella cream."

"They look really good, and they feel nice too." Dave smiled and handed her one, opening a can of beer. The beer wasn't cold anymore, but it was better than nothing. As Dave unwrapped the sandwiches, he asked, "Where's your husband? Why isn't he with you?"

"What do you mean?" The woman looked flustered.

"Oh, I just happened to see you weren't wearing your ring. You know what I mean," Dave smiled,

noticing the woman's embarrassment.

She looked down; in the moonlight, a ring of pale skin marked her middle finger. "We're divorced."

"Oh? How did you get divorced?"

"I discovered he'd been lying to me."

"Lying? Oh my god, I think he must be crazy. You're lying to me, aren't you?"

"He's not crazy, he's just a little perverted. But I can tell you something, lying to me was the worst mistake he ever made."

They sat silently, staring at each other for a while. Under the moonlight, they unconsciously drew closer. Lonely souls always need physical comfort.

Dave turned on the car's air conditioning, and the two sat side-by-side in the back seat. His hand gently encircled the woman's waist; her waist was soft and slender. It felt good, and Dave unconsciously complimented her. The woman wasn't shy; her expression was full of yearning. "Slut." Dave's other hand unceremoniously placed on the woman's breast, pressing hard against the full mound. From kneading and grabbing outside her clothes to groping and pinching inside. Dave was overjoyed; who would have thought he'd suddenly have such a romantic encounter?

"How about a different position?" Dave chuckled, his erect penis still prominent. The woman lazily turned, smiled at him, and her large, round buttocks swayed gently, presenting themselves to him.

Dave smiled, and mounted her.

Ahhh~ A groan~

This would be the best way to remember her, Dave thought, and with a flick of his left hand, he picked up the shovel beside him and swung it at her head.

He placed her body next to the cactus.

Dave continued driving along the road, still thinking about the woman. She had a great demeanor, and a fantastic figure. Deceiving such a beautiful and alluring woman felt a little guilty. And she had told him so many private things. Ah, what bad luck. Dave felt incredibly satisfied, and the tightness inside her reminded him of it all. That feeling was truly exhilarating.

What a romantic encounter!

Dave lit a cigarette and took a drag. The smoke slowly spread.

Just as he was feeling lucky, the car jolted, and Dave slammed on the brakes. The car came to a screeching stop. He got out.

"Oh no!" He stared at the flat rear tires, their sharp thorns sticking out. He leaned against the side of the car, panting heavily.

Dave closed his eyes and shook his head. He was speechless at his current predicament; the feeling of falling from heaven to hell was unpleasant.

How incredibly unlucky! Two bruises from a tiny cactus thorn in one night.

Dave was at a loss for what to do.

A faint engine sound came from afar. Dave opened his eyes, squinting at his back. A car was approaching in the distance. For a moment, he desperately wanted to hitch a ride, but that hope quickly faded. He closed his eyes again, waiting for the car to speed past.

But it didn't go; it stopped.

Dave opened his eyes and gasped for breath.

"Good evening, sir," the stranger called to him.

“Hello, officer,” Dave said, his heart skipping a beat.

The stranger, an officer, glanced at Dave’s car. “You’re about to change a tire?”

“I think so.”

“You think so? What does that mean? You’re either changing it or you’re not.”

“I mean, I’m not sure if it’ll work, because I’ve never encountered this before. You understand,

sir?” Dave felt a sweat trickling down his back, unsure if it was from the desert heat or something psychological; he hoped it was the former.

“Of course I understand. I’m on night patrol here. Until I find something, this is the middle of nowhere. A person or two could die. If your spare tire doesn’t work, I can radio it for you to call a tow truck.” The stranger’s expression visibly relaxed.

“Okay, thanks.” Dave opened the car door and took the key from the ignition.

Everything was normal, Dave told himself. This officer had no reason to suspect him.

“Did you veer off the road in the back?”

“No. What’s wrong?” As the officer asked, Dave’s hand trembled, and the small, rattling things fell to the ground. The stranger picked them up.

“You know there are a lot of cacti around here. Cars often set off firecrackers here. So they’re the murderers.”

He followed the policeman to the rear wheel of the car. He breathed a sigh of relief.

The octagonal key wouldn’t open the trunk.

“Don’t you know why those idiots in Dapoli don’t make a trunk key that can open both the car door and the trunk?”

“I don’t know.” Dave was already laughing inwardly. He adopted the same obnoxious tone as the stranger officer, feeling even more confident. He

gently inserted the key, and the trunk slammed open.

The policeman lifted a tarpaulin and threw it on the ground, gently pointing his pistol at Dave’s head. Dave stared dumbfounded at the fallen body, clearly a very gentlemanly man.

My friend, the story is over. Surprised? I think you’re starting to sweat. Are you too close to the stove? Or is it an overdose of adrenaline? At this point, you should get up and say goodbye as usual.

Oh no—your coffee is trembling. You know, this is very impolite to the host, but I can't really blame you, because I forgot—you can't get up anymore, your body is constantly going numb. Your senses are slowly fading, don't worry, that's normal. Because I put a little something in your coffee.

Cheers! My friend, it seems you're still wondering about this story. Although you seem to vaguely know the ending. But before the answer is revealed, anyone can be wrong. Okay, okay, let me tell you the final truth, the stranger officer's name: Winnie Croll. That's

right, that's me, Dave. He's funny, I took him home and kept him in my basement. Unfortunately, he ran into me, who just happened to be home after killing a policeman. Okay, okay, I seem to have said too much.

My dear friend, I have proven my point above. What about you? Haha, although you might be in hell, may God be with you.

[The End]

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