Nobody can deny that Clark has a brilliant sense of humor. People are always smiling around him. As the empty road stretches out in front of him, he slips into unconscious thought. This road used to be one of the busiest highways in the world, but the recent popularity of the TeleBus has made the unaffordable habit of driving even less palatable. Clark doesn't like the TeleBus; after a Government Scientist explained how it breaks bodies down to basic elements and then transports them on wind currents, Clark could no longer feel comfortable in the machine. Everybody had agreed that the initial experiments had yielded horrific results: arms placed where legs should be, fingers and toes randomly attached, and of course that time that a prototype bus scrambled bodies and heads.
Luckily for Clark, cars have not yet been made illegal. He prefers the open road, and the loneliness warms his sanity even on the loneliest of days. Suddenly, he notices a TelePad in front of him--the neon blue squares that indicate still-great danger for motorists--and swerves to avoid it. From outside of the car, he hears a scream and a crash, and he slams on his breaks to see what trouble he has caused this time.
Immediately surrounding his car, Clark was surprised to find absolutely nothing. Up the road, he sees the source of the sound: a woman stands by the side of the road. Even from his distance, Clark can tell how deeply beautiful she is. Her long, reddish-brown hair extends down to her upper back, and she turns and waves; her delicate arms and fingers float in the air like the fine details of a dream. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but Clark didn't believe in thousand-year-old aphorisms anymore. He sidled up next to her.
No sooner had they introduced themselves to each other (her name was Lucinda) than did another crash come booming across the desert. Clark looked out to the horizon, and it took a moment for his eyes to focus. When they did, his brain still had a hard time adjusting to the sight in front of them. What can only be described as a giant, 3-legged shark was barreling toward the newly-acquainted couple.
Luckily for Clark, cars have not yet been made illegal. He prefers the open road, and the loneliness warms his sanity even on the loneliest of days. Suddenly, he notices a TelePad in front of him--the neon blue squares that indicate still-great danger for motorists--and swerves to avoid it. From outside of the car, he hears a scream and a crash, and he slams on his breaks to see what trouble he has caused this time.
Immediately surrounding his car, Clark was surprised to find absolutely nothing. Up the road, he sees the source of the sound: a woman stands by the side of the road. Even from his distance, Clark can tell how deeply beautiful she is. Her long, reddish-brown hair extends down to her upper back, and she turns and waves; her delicate arms and fingers float in the air like the fine details of a dream. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but Clark didn't believe in thousand-year-old aphorisms anymore. He sidled up next to her.
No sooner had they introduced themselves to each other (her name was Lucinda) than did another crash come booming across the desert. Clark looked out to the horizon, and it took a moment for his eyes to focus. When they did, his brain still had a hard time adjusting to the sight in front of them. What can only be described as a giant, 3-legged shark was barreling toward the newly-acquainted couple.
