“The exits aren't even numbered anymore,” said Shannon. “I think it's the same one every time.”
“So what happens if we take it?” asked Dan.
“Find out,” Shannon ordered. “I'm getting sleepy.”
The road rapidly petered out to mere dirt tracks. Only the lights through the trees kept them moving forward. The sign declared it the “Furnall Inn.”
Behind the counter, a gaunt man turned to regard them as they lugged in their bags. “Stay a while,” he intoned. “Stay... foreve-”
“Screw this,” said Shannon. “I'm sleeping in the car.”
That Pot Or Vase I Think
19 hours ago