The night is silent.
Tim stares blankly out into the darkness. Stacy slumps forward, held in place by her seatbelt.
The deer picks itself up off the windshield, and limps its shattered body off the edge of the
highway. Its antlers lodge themselves into Tim’s throat. The deer flies over the front of the car,
crashing through the window. The impact jolts Stacy and her head thuds into the dashboard,
hard. The deer’s body is solid enough that it crumples the front bumper. Its eyes shine in the
light of the headlights, as its head turns to look at the car careening towards it.
Tim jerks the steering wheel aside, seconds too late, as Stacy screams
“LOOK OUT!”
A deer runs across the road, just ahead of them. There’s a forest on each side of the highway,
dark and beautiful.
Stacy refuses to look at Tim, turning her head to watch out the window instead. Tim starts to
explain himself, but gives up halfway through the first word with a sigh.
There’s a young couple in the car, driving home from a party. The tension feels like it could
shatter any moment.
A car drives down a long highway, filled with its own microcosm of quiet.
Bugs chirp, and in a nearby ditch, frogs croak their lonely songs, but even those taper off as the
roar of an engine approaches.
The night is silent.