Today's beautiful prose comes courtesy of the late Jack Cady's short story, "The Night We Buried Road Dog", in Cemetery Dance's forthcoming collection, The Horror Hall of Fame: The Stoker Winners, edited by Joe R. Lansdale. My review of the collection on its way....
"And now, even the great good cars are dead, or most of them. What with gas prices and wars and rumors of wars, the cars these days are all suspensions. They'll corner like a cat, but don't have the scratch of a cat; and maybe that's a good thing. The state posts fewer crosses on the highways.
Still, there are some howlers left out there, and some guys still howling. I lie in bed nights and listen to the scorch of engines along Highway 2. I hear them claw the darkness, stretching lonesome at the sky, scatting across the eternal land; younger guys running as young guys must; chasing each other, or chasing the land of dreams, or chasing into ghostland while hoping it isn't true - guys running into darkness chasing each other, or chasing something - chasing road.
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