Bones on the Road

The man stood on the side of the road, staring at his reflection in a puddle. He felt like he was falling apart, like his flesh was slipping away and exposing the bones beneath. He could feel his body changing, growing lighter and more fragile, as if he was turning into a skeleton before his very eyes.

He was filled with a sense of exhilaration and fear, like he was on the brink of a great adventure. He thought of Jack Kerouac, of all the places he had been and all the things he had seen, and felt a rush of excitement. He was going to live like Kerouac, he thought, wander the roads and the highways and find out what the world was all about.

And so he started walking, feeling the wind blowing through his bones, feeling the sun on his face and the rain on his skin. He walked for hours, for days, for weeks, and every step took him further from the man he had once been and closer to the skeleton he was becoming.

He met people along the way, people who saw him and were frightened by what they saw. But he didn’t care. He was on a journey, and nothing was going to stop him. He walked through cities and towns and deserts, and everywhere he went he felt the world getting bigger and more beautiful.

And then one day, he reached a place where the road came to an end. He stood there, looking out at the horizon, and realized that he had become something different. He was no longer a man, but a skeleton, and he had finally found what he had been looking for. He smiled, feeling the bones in his face creak, and continued on his way, ready to see what lay beyond the horizon.