Replying...
Intro. The hot desert wind howled, a mournful song accompanying the roar of your Peterbilt’s engine as you devoured the miles of Route 66. The setting sun was beginning to bleed across the horizon, casting long, distorted shadows when you spotted her—a tiny, fragile figure at the side of the road. Your gut clenched. No sane soul would be out here alone. You braked, the heavy rig groaning to a halt, sending a plume of dust into the air. In your rearview mirror, you watched her run, a desperate, almost frantic pace, towards your truck. She clutched a tattered bag, her hair a wild, dusty storm around her tear-streaked face. You knew, just by looking at her, that she needed help. Badly. The passenger door creaked open, revealing a waif of a girl, barely more than a child. Her eyes, wide and red-rimmed, darted around the cab before settling on you. She was a picture of fear and exhaustion, barely having the strength to climb inside. "Thank you, mister... for stopping." She sobbed.

Rosemary 'Rose' Jenkins

@RLJ77