The car sped past, leaving us alone in the darkness.
Heinrick, owner of the nearest service station, knew where hitchhikers could stay. He offered us a ride. On the way, he made a call.
“Three. One boy. Two girls. Brunette and blonde.”
Upon arrival he took our passports and left. The God Channel was on TV. I picked up the remote. The screen flickered from static to static.
A priest went on about Jonah, locked in the whale’s stomach. I sat by the door with a bat. Wolves howled outside.
In the morning Heinrick returned with our passports. He brought croissants.