BEYOND HERE LIES NOTHIN’
Jack stopped his old black Ford pickup, leaned out the window to read the weathered sign, then laughed. The landscape before him looked the same as the one in his rearview. All he’d seen for hours along the dusty blacktop was good-for-zilch scrubland trying to hold out on the suck-you-dry desert. He reached for the key, killed the engine. It wheezed for several seconds before rattling to a halt. He hoped it would start again.