It’s late but it’s here! We’re crowdsourcing the miscellany for Codex – Asphalt. This miscellany is called “Three Dozen Stops Along the Road.” Submissions need to be a single sentence, or 2-3 short sentences at most. By submitting here, you’re agreeing to let us use it (you’ll get a credit on the issue). We’re looking for evocative things; the purpose of the miscellany is to inspire the reader.
Here are some examples:
“The Exit 33 off-ramp is ruined, and there’s more rubble than buildings out that way, but someone’s still tending the plants in the old nursery. Rumor is they’re willing to trade, especially for quality fertilizer.”
“There’s no sign, and the turn-off’s barely visible until it’s too late, especially in the dark, but if you follow the road back into the trees and keep your headlights off the whole way, someone you knew will meet you where it dead-ends.”
“Sonya’s Diner isn’t good, but the cook was a medic once, of some stripe, and Sonya’s both willing to look the other way if someone spends the night nursing a cup of burnt coffee and polite enough not to notice if they don’t seem quite human.”
The scrub is thick in this area, except in the glade where a large willow tree sits. The willow gently sways in the breeze, but some of the leaves are bone white. You could almost swear you can smell ginger.
Measured Desperation the sign read, word at the last town said it was the best place to regain your ticket to damnation. Judging by the outside of this place, some people cashed their tickets here.
At first you thought someone had piled up some rocks on both sides of the road. But after closer inspection the stone piles were quartz obelisks, each pair taller than the last, on each side of the road. The road leads into the hills, and you notice a distant bird call, and another replying.
The scrub is thick in this area, except in the glade where a large willow tree sits. The willow gently sways in the breeze, but some of the leaves are bone white. You could almost swear you can smell ginger.
Measured Desperation the sign read, word at the last town said it was the best place to regain your ticket to damnation. Judging by the outside of this place, some people cashed their tickets here.
At first you thought someone had piled up some rocks on both sides of the road. But after closer inspection the stone piles were quartz obelisks, each pair taller than the last, on each side of the road. The road leads into the hills, and you notice a distant bird call, and another replying.
No-one sees the turnoff to the Circle, even though it shows up on GPS and aerial maps: to get there, you have to program it as your destination then, before you reach the turn, put on the sacred blindfold and wait to hear your satnav tell you “Turn Widdershins… NOW!”
No-one sees the turnoff to the Circle, even though it shows up on GPS and aerial maps: to get there, you have to program it as your destination then, before you reach the turn, put on the sacred blindfold and wait to hear your satnav tell you “Turn Widdershins… NOW!”
On the way up old Highway 9, just before you start climbing into the mountains, there’s an abandoned attraction called The Wonder Valley. It’s a collection of concrete animals and trees that have been trained into bizarre shapes. Sometimes people think they see their younger selves there.
On the way up old Highway 9, just before you start climbing into the mountains, there’s an abandoned attraction called The Wonder Valley. It’s a collection of concrete animals and trees that have been trained into bizarre shapes. Sometimes people think they see their younger selves there.
Slap bang in the middle of the desert trail, you’ll find the Lost Beach diner: you might laugh at the ironic joke, if you’re not one of those in the know, because the beach it’s named after is under the diner and the sea it borders laps the shores of many dimensions.
Slap bang in the middle of the desert trail, you’ll find the Lost Beach diner: you might laugh at the ironic joke, if you’re not one of those in the know, because the beach it’s named after is under the diner and the sea it borders laps the shores of many dimensions.
They tried to warn you, they put out sign telling travellers to keep moving, but the monsters just found it funny and altered it for their own purposes. The dribbly red lettering seems an odd choice for the ‘Donut Stop’, but by the time time you meet Spider and her crew, it’s too late to realise they changed the apostrophe to a ‘u’.
They tried to warn you, they put out sign telling travellers to keep moving, but the monsters just found it funny and altered it for their own purposes. The dribbly red lettering seems an odd choice for the ‘Donut Stop’, but by the time time you meet Spider and her crew, it’s too late to realise they changed the apostrophe to a ‘u’.
Gallant Harbor is a miserable trailer park. Every place in it is a blight on the Earth. Except that one Airstream. It gleams like fresh love.
Gallant Harbor is a miserable trailer park. Every place in it is a blight on the Earth. Except that one Airstream. It gleams like fresh love.
There’s an open manhole just off the main road, gaping and black. A crude sign with a bucket is set close by reads ‘WONDRESS ADVENTORE – ADMISH: 2 BULLITTS (NOT A TRAPP). An arrow points at the hole.
There’s an open manhole just off the main road, gaping and black. A crude sign with a bucket is set close by reads ‘WONDRESS ADVENTORE – ADMISH: 2 BULLITTS (NOT A TRAPP). An arrow points at the hole.
The Big Numbat. A giant marsupial statue, once a tacky family tourist roadstop, now a terrible, gore-stained 40′ idol worshipped by the road-gangs that plague this stretch of highway.
Weathered and worn, its great snout screams silently now into the wastes.
The Big Numbat. A giant marsupial statue, once a tacky family tourist roadstop, now a terrible, gore-stained 40′ idol worshipped by the road-gangs that plague this stretch of highway.
Weathered and worn, its great snout screams silently now into the wastes.
Listening
Listening
It’s the deadliest place to cross the road. It’s not that people are are killed while crossing, but 1 in 6 who’ve cross at this spot have died in freak accidents the next day.
It’s the deadliest place to cross the road. It’s not that people are are killed while crossing, but 1 in 6 who’ve cross at this spot have died in freak accidents the next day.
The small red brick building off the north/south highway that used to be a bridal store closed suddenly, but briefly. Two large hand painted signs now lean against the brick, reading “MEAT” and “OPEN”.
The small red brick building off the north/south highway that used to be a bridal store closed suddenly, but briefly. Two large hand painted signs now lean against the brick, reading “MEAT” and “OPEN”.
The abandoned church, some say Missouri Synod others Methodist, sits close to the highway about an hour outside of the city. It’s surrounded by fields spotted with crumbling silos. If you know the right people they’ll tell you when the raves are scheduled.
The abandoned church, some say Missouri Synod others Methodist, sits close to the highway about an hour outside of the city. It’s surrounded by fields spotted with crumbling silos. If you know the right people they’ll tell you when the raves are scheduled.
Grandpa Dan stopped at the same scenic overlook out by Mt. Rainier every year on our annual vacation before he died. He’d just stand there gazing at this one big rock with a weird look on his face. Then I saw a documentary about D. B. Cooper and…
You take the tunnel in every day. Today, there’s an exit ramp at the halfway point, leading down. But that makes no sense! You’re under the channel!
WATERMELONS — CORN — IMMORTALITY — PEACHES
Grandpa Dan stopped at the same scenic overlook out by Mt. Rainier every year on our annual vacation before he died. He’d just stand there gazing at this one big rock with a weird look on his face. Then I saw a documentary about D. B. Cooper and…
You take the tunnel in every day. Today, there’s an exit ramp at the halfway point, leading down. But that makes no sense! You’re under the channel!
WATERMELONS — CORN — IMMORTALITY — PEACHES
Do I write that here?
Do I write that here?
The sign along the road says “fresh blueberries” and points to a ruined shack. Sounds ironic at first glance, but everyone around here knows “blueberry” is code for drugs to help endure both physical and emotional pain… if you can pay the price.
The sign along the road says “fresh blueberries” and points to a ruined shack. Sounds ironic at first glance, but everyone around here knows “blueberry” is code for drugs to help endure both physical and emotional pain… if you can pay the price.
Delilah’s is an old truck stop, built back in the age of jukeboxes and carhops. Rough around the edges, but still beautiful despite the age, both the diner and her owner know everything going on around these parts, and she’s willing to tell you for the price of a slice of pie, and a promise whispered in her ear.
Delilah’s is an old truck stop, built back in the age of jukeboxes and carhops. Rough around the edges, but still beautiful despite the age, both the diner and her owner know everything going on around these parts, and she’s willing to tell you for the price of a slice of pie, and a promise whispered in her ear.
Hothouse Junction used to be an old hotel, built on top of the local hotsprings. They say that a man could go there and find the cure for what ails them, whether it be a sickness of the body, of the mind, or the soul itself.
Hothouse Junction used to be an old hotel, built on top of the local hotsprings. They say that a man could go there and find the cure for what ails them, whether it be a sickness of the body, of the mind, or the soul itself.
The Sundowner Lodge
A remembered shortcut off of a long forgotten highway; beneath a buzzing, popping beacon of busted neon waits the welcoming concrete arms of an aged motor inn. Her rooms appointed with the mismatched, reclaimed furnishings from the gutting of various, defunct motels. Next to the burnt orange and verdant green covered bed, atop the nicked nightstand in each room squats a Bell rotary phone in either beige, canary or avocado. A small metal plate riveted above the dial indicates an incoming phone number, but the area code is from the other side of the country. The phone rings with metallic analog insistence. You bring the cold receiver to your ear and hear the vaguely familiar voice of someone long forgotten groggily mumble, “Hello?”
The Sundowner Lodge
A remembered shortcut off of a long forgotten highway; beneath a buzzing, popping beacon of busted neon waits the welcoming concrete arms of an aged motor inn. Her rooms appointed with the mismatched, reclaimed furnishings from the gutting of various, defunct motels. Next to the burnt orange and verdant green covered bed, atop the nicked nightstand in each room squats a Bell rotary phone in either beige, canary or avocado. A small metal plate riveted above the dial indicates an incoming phone number, but the area code is from the other side of the country. The phone rings with metallic analog insistence. You bring the cold receiver to your ear and hear the vaguely familiar voice of someone long forgotten groggily mumble, “Hello?”
Weatherby is one of those towns known for nothing, and always feels like home, no matter where you’re from. You can’t get there by trying to map it, but only by truly wanting to get away from it all, and let yourself nod off as you drive by the light of the moon.
Weatherby is one of those towns known for nothing, and always feels like home, no matter where you’re from. You can’t get there by trying to map it, but only by truly wanting to get away from it all, and let yourself nod off as you drive by the light of the moon.
The neon purple paint now rests in huge flakes on the ground, but the massive sheep-shaped armature remains the most arresting sight on Route 79. Nestled in her overgrown lot as close to the road as permits would allow, she invites the bored and the curious to hop the warning signs and clamber through her viscera. “You’ve just missed COLOSSAL CALLIE!” a faded billboard 500 feet down the road announces. “TURN HERE for your LAST CHANCE.”
The neon purple paint now rests in huge flakes on the ground, but the massive sheep-shaped armature remains the most arresting sight on Route 79. Nestled in her overgrown lot as close to the road as permits would allow, she invites the bored and the curious to hop the warning signs and clamber through her viscera. “You’ve just missed COLOSSAL CALLIE!” a faded billboard 500 feet down the road announces. “TURN HERE for your LAST CHANCE.”
A graveyard of cars sits off the edge of the cliff, where County Road 227 sharply turns to the east. Locals says to avoid that road when your vehicle has troubles and is getting on in years, for it’s never the driver who chooses to go off the cliff.
A graveyard of cars sits off the edge of the cliff, where County Road 227 sharply turns to the east. Locals says to avoid that road when your vehicle has troubles and is getting on in years, for it’s never the driver who chooses to go off the cliff.
There’s a descanso (roadside memorial) with an upside down cross and empty picture frame, that occasionally appears on the southbound highway. Putting someone’s picture in the frame causes them to disappear from our world. Putting your own picture in the frame is ill advised.
There’s a descanso (roadside memorial) with an upside down cross and empty picture frame, that occasionally appears on the southbound highway. Putting someone’s picture in the frame causes them to disappear from our world. Putting your own picture in the frame is ill advised.
Somewhere along Route 50 in Utah there’s this shitty gas-station where, inside a dilapidated bathroom stall, there’s a message scrawled on the wall in faded Sharpie: “BOOK OF RELEVATIONS WAS A HOAX. THE BAD GUYS ACTUALLY WON. CALL 2 FIND OUT THE TRUTH: 250-266-6999”. Dial that number, and some fucking raving whackjob who calls himself Archangel Michael picks up.
Somewhere along Route 50 in Utah there’s this shitty gas-station where, inside a dilapidated bathroom stall, there’s a message scrawled on the wall in faded Sharpie: “BOOK OF RELEVATIONS WAS A HOAX. THE BAD GUYS ACTUALLY WON. CALL 2 FIND OUT THE TRUTH: 250-266-6999”. Dial that number, and some fucking raving whackjob who calls himself Archangel Michael picks up.
There is an old boat ramp under the bridge across Booby-Wog Creek that is used by local fishermen and illegal dumpers from the city. Its common advice that if your line snags on something its best just to cut it loose. If something pulls the rod out of your hands, its best just to pack it in for the day…
There is an old boat ramp under the bridge across Booby-Wog Creek that is used by local fishermen and illegal dumpers from the city. Its common advice that if your line snags on something its best just to cut it loose. If something pulls the rod out of your hands, its best just to pack it in for the day…
There is a large sign on the side of the road, pretty amateurish, that reads: “Speeding and Drinking lead to bad driving — and bad driving leads to death. It’s not your own life you need to take care of out there.” Those who drive past it who have a history of drunk driving tend to have fatal accidents a handful of miles down the road.
There is a large sign on the side of the road, pretty amateurish, that reads: “Speeding and Drinking lead to bad driving — and bad driving leads to death. It’s not your own life you need to take care of out there.” Those who drive past it who have a history of drunk driving tend to have fatal accidents a handful of miles down the road.
A handwritten sign points towards a dirt path cutting through a corn field. It reads:
UFO crash site.
Bring warm clothing!!!
A handwritten sign points towards a dirt path cutting through a corn field. It reads:
UFO crash site.
Bring warm clothing!!!
The entrance to the Maze of the Iron Beast only appears at abandoned truck stops when you’re in desperate need of gas, or food and water, or the means of escape. Only then will an impossibly black semi truck be present, it’s cab empty, the trailer door slightly ajar; the sound of bird song and running water coming from the other side.
The entrance to the Maze of the Iron Beast only appears at abandoned truck stops when you’re in desperate need of gas, or food and water, or the means of escape. Only then will an impossibly black semi truck be present, it’s cab empty, the trailer door slightly ajar; the sound of bird song and running water coming from the other side.
A stretch of road just past a small town with a turkey mascot is frequently closed for road work. The detour sends you through gravel roads, but there’s a span you can never remember. It’s about three miles long, as you’ve been able to figure out from your odometer.
A stretch of road just past a small town with a turkey mascot is frequently closed for road work. The detour sends you through gravel roads, but there’s a span you can never remember. It’s about three miles long, as you’ve been able to figure out from your odometer.
They’re on the side of the road, waiving their arms to flag you down or warn you about the blockage. Their car is sideways across the road. You won’t see their dozen “friends” until it’s too late because of the tall grass.
They’re on the side of the road, waiving their arms to flag you down or warn you about the blockage. Their car is sideways across the road. You won’t see their dozen “friends” until it’s too late because of the tall grass.
Henry s (the apostrophe fell off long ago) is the last gas station and toilet before the salt flats. He’ll sell you a jerry can, if you’ve got one of those gas-guzzlers, and a map that points to untold riches, if you don’t mind digging in the heat.
Henry s (the apostrophe fell off long ago) is the last gas station and toilet before the salt flats. He’ll sell you a jerry can, if you’ve got one of those gas-guzzlers, and a map that points to untold riches, if you don’t mind digging in the heat.
“Red Anjou’s – by donation”, chalk on dark-painted plywood. There’s a table with crates-full of red lumps and a dozen broken down cars. But you’re out of cash. No one is watching, right?
“Red Anjou’s – by donation”, chalk on dark-painted plywood. There’s a table with crates-full of red lumps and a dozen broken down cars. But you’re out of cash. No one is watching, right?
The scenic drive between the redwoods is something to behold. There’s a barren pullout overlooking the green expanse of plummeting gorge. There’s something primal in the air there, like food, sex, or death.
The scenic drive between the redwoods is something to behold. There’s a barren pullout overlooking the green expanse of plummeting gorge. There’s something primal in the air there, like food, sex, or death.
It always seems to rain around midnight on Hairpin Highway. The bunches of flowers and small placards dotting the barricades make you uneasy. The hitchhikers grin widely at you, seemingly proud of their missing teeth.
It always seems to rain around midnight on Hairpin Highway. The bunches of flowers and small placards dotting the barricades make you uneasy. The hitchhikers grin widely at you, seemingly proud of their missing teeth.
Pigsticker’s BBQ Hut is a popular stop along Route 66, especially after that fancy food magazine claimed their pork sausage links were “the very taste of the open road.” Before that bit of publicity, the main thing people knew about Pigsticker’s–if they knew anything at all–was the urban legend started in the1970s about a group of kids who found bits of human finger bone and teeth on the restaurant’s property.
Pigsticker’s BBQ Hut is a popular stop along Route 66, especially after that fancy food magazine claimed their pork sausage links were “the very taste of the open road.” Before that bit of publicity, the main thing people knew about Pigsticker’s–if they knew anything at all–was the urban legend started in the1970s about a group of kids who found bits of human finger bone and teeth on the restaurant’s property.
If you get out of your car on old road 913 where it passes through the woods, make sure not to get in and close the doors too quickly. Loudly announce your intention to set off soon and leave the windows open until your up to speed. They try not to get caught but you do not want to pick up any stowaways and bring them home with you.
If you get out of your car on old road 913 where it passes through the woods, make sure not to get in and close the doors too quickly. Loudly announce your intention to set off soon and leave the windows open until your up to speed. They try not to get caught but you do not want to pick up any stowaways and bring them home with you.
Somewhere along an endless stretch of rural blacktop flanked by radiant rows of alternating beans and corn sits a battered, whitewashed country store. Out front sits a wooden sign crudely painted with the words “Last Bathroom for a While”. Making your way past the coolers of beer and pop, through shelves of tinned meat, chips, candy, pickled eggs and pigs feet you come to a bright red painted door with the familiar generic restroom placard. Inside appears normal except the walls are painted the same bright red as the door. You do your business, and after washing your hands you turn toward the paper towels and see a single lonely coin slot. Ever curious you slide a quarter into the slot. Suddenly the overhead fluorescents click off and the room is filled with a red light. The sound of steady baseline echoes in your ears. A disco ball descends through a door in the ceiling as the familiar refrain of “Disco Inferno” fills your ears.
Somewhere along an endless stretch of rural blacktop flanked by radiant rows of alternating beans and corn sits a battered, whitewashed country store. Out front sits a wooden sign crudely painted with the words “Last Bathroom for a While”. Making your way past the coolers of beer and pop, through shelves of tinned meat, chips, candy, pickled eggs and pigs feet you come to a bright red painted door with the familiar generic restroom placard. Inside appears normal except the walls are painted the same bright red as the door. You do your business, and after washing your hands you turn toward the paper towels and see a single lonely coin slot. Ever curious you slide a quarter into the slot. Suddenly the overhead fluorescents click off and the room is filled with a red light. The sound of steady baseline echoes in your ears. A disco ball descends through a door in the ceiling as the familiar refrain of “Disco Inferno” fills your ears.
At a crossroads in a dead town without a name, there is an older-style traffic light that still works. Best to ignore it though, as those who stop aren’t often heard from again.
At a crossroads in a dead town without a name, there is an older-style traffic light that still works. Best to ignore it though, as those who stop aren’t often heard from again.
From time to time, if the signs appear, you can follow them off the highway to the Lost ‘N Found. If you go in and have a look around, you’re certain to find something you’ve been missing. Long after you’ve left, you’ll realize that something else is now gone.
From time to time, if the signs appear, you can follow them off the highway to the Lost ‘N Found. If you go in and have a look around, you’re certain to find something you’ve been missing. Long after you’ve left, you’ll realize that something else is now gone.
On the side of an any great motorway, all over the world, sometimes you can find a bookshelf. It’s one of these “take a book, give a book” thingies, a large shelf made of oak and ash, and if you give a first edition, the book you take will start you on a new path – a fresh start, no strings attached. If you just take a book, something will go badly wrong on your trip. And yes, there is always a book in that shelf that will interest you.
A hitchhiker to Unalaska, who is slowly working his way up from Phoenix, AZ. If you take him just part of the way, he will tell you a weird but amusing story. If you take him all the way, he will teach you the secret of whistling down bears.
Do not place coins over your eyes when you have to cross the Red River and are the only passenger on board, otherwise you will never be seen again!
On the side of an any great motorway, all over the world, sometimes you can find a bookshelf. It’s one of these “take a book, give a book” thingies, a large shelf made of oak and ash, and if you give a first edition, the book you take will start you on a new path – a fresh start, no strings attached. If you just take a book, something will go badly wrong on your trip. And yes, there is always a book in that shelf that will interest you.
A hitchhiker to Unalaska, who is slowly working his way up from Phoenix, AZ. If you take him just part of the way, he will tell you a weird but amusing story. If you take him all the way, he will teach you the secret of whistling down bears.
Do not place coins over your eyes when you have to cross the Red River and are the only passenger on board, otherwise you will never be seen again!
The Pylon Death Gate is invisible to those without second sight, but you know you’re there when just off the road you see many statues kneeling in a concentric circle around nothing. Praying to it with thoughts of the deceased causes you to temporarily go on a slightly different road, leaving your body behind safely encased in stone, as you visit them in the afterworld; it appears that many never return from this journey.
The Pylon Death Gate is invisible to those without second sight, but you know you’re there when just off the road you see many statues kneeling in a concentric circle around nothing. Praying to it with thoughts of the deceased causes you to temporarily go on a slightly different road, leaving your body behind safely encased in stone, as you visit them in the afterworld; it appears that many never return from this journey.
Andrea’s Unusual Gift Store and Resale Emporium has been a guidebook “essential visit” as long as anyone can remember. Beyond chachkies, puerille novelties and whole wall of “antique treasures” Andrea has an impressive wall of unmarked, untraceable firearms in the back.
Andrea’s Unusual Gift Store and Resale Emporium has been a guidebook “essential visit” as long as anyone can remember. Beyond chachkies, puerille novelties and whole wall of “antique treasures” Andrea has an impressive wall of unmarked, untraceable firearms in the back.
The XXX mart off of highway 122, right near the junction and past the bridge, you know the place. It’s been foreclosed on recently and all of its stock was liquidated. People say some of the tapes had been taped over, and the sheriff has been asking questions about the Keeley murders three years back.
The XXX mart off of highway 122, right near the junction and past the bridge, you know the place. It’s been foreclosed on recently and all of its stock was liquidated. People say some of the tapes had been taped over, and the sheriff has been asking questions about the Keeley murders three years back.
Getting back across the border can be a lengthy process. Thankfully, numerous vendors weave their way between the cars offering sweets and keepsakes to remember your visit. Then, one knocks on your window, shoves a small wrapped package into your lap, tosses a fistful of dollars into your car and is gone behind the nearest bus.
Getting back across the border can be a lengthy process. Thankfully, numerous vendors weave their way between the cars offering sweets and keepsakes to remember your visit. Then, one knocks on your window, shoves a small wrapped package into your lap, tosses a fistful of dollars into your car and is gone behind the nearest bus.
California is protective of its agriculture, so much so that they stop you at the border and ask about any plants you may have with you. Lately, the officers have been asking other questions about the moon phase and wearing silver rings on all their fingers.
California is protective of its agriculture, so much so that they stop you at the border and ask about any plants you may have with you. Lately, the officers have been asking other questions about the moon phase and wearing silver rings on all their fingers.
The Sunfire Butte service station is the last place to gas up before a hundred and fifty kilometres of bare desert road. Over the years it has become a sprawling complex to serve all kinds of road travellers. You can find just about anything you need here but make sure you choose well – it’s a long way to the next sign of civilization.
The Sunfire Butte service station is the last place to gas up before a hundred and fifty kilometres of bare desert road. Over the years it has become a sprawling complex to serve all kinds of road travellers. You can find just about anything you need here but make sure you choose well – it’s a long way to the next sign of civilization.
The abandoned Hell House at the entrance of the small Oregon town was the brainchild of someone with too much money and a desire to preach fire and brimstone on his hands. Rumor says someone died of fright inside it. Nowadays it is the home of more devious people.
The abandoned Hell House at the entrance of the small Oregon town was the brainchild of someone with too much money and a desire to preach fire and brimstone on his hands. Rumor says someone died of fright inside it. Nowadays it is the home of more devious people.
Every night locals from the small nearby town drive half-awake, lost in thought, or music blaring, thirty minutes down the only major road past a pig farm to the tire factory for their graveyard shift. Tonight was like any other night, the stench from the farm unbearable, except unbeknownst to them, the pigs feasted on something special. Later, all were told about a factory employee gone missing the night before.
Every night locals from the small nearby town drive half-awake, lost in thought, or music blaring, thirty minutes down the only major road past a pig farm to the tire factory for their graveyard shift. Tonight was like any other night, the stench from the farm unbearable, except unbeknownst to them, the pigs feasted on something special. Later, all were told about a factory employee gone missing the night before.
Hey everybody! If you submitted something, you’re the real MVP. If you did and it didn’t appear until just now, it’s because for some reason most of the entries got flagged as spam(?!). You’re all the best sort of spam! Keep posting, and I’ll keep telling Google to stop helping.
Hey everybody! If you submitted something, you’re the real MVP. If you did and it didn’t appear until just now, it’s because for some reason most of the entries got flagged as spam(?!). You’re all the best sort of spam! Keep posting, and I’ll keep telling Google to stop helping.
The cheesy, amateurish sign on the side of the road reads: “Drinking and Driving are a massive danger. Remember, it’s not only your life you’re putting on the line when you do this.” The stretch of road it’s on has a long history of horrible accidents… all of which happened to people with a history of drunk driving, and always after passing that sign.
The cheesy, amateurish sign on the side of the road reads: “Drinking and Driving are a massive danger. Remember, it’s not only your life you’re putting on the line when you do this.” The stretch of road it’s on has a long history of horrible accidents… all of which happened to people with a history of drunk driving, and always after passing that sign.
Nobody ever remembers stopping at exit 3. It just so happens that some drivers passing by the exit suddenly realize they’re doing 96 mph with a full tank of high octane gas and a 100 lb. package of black tar heroin in the back.
Nobody ever remembers stopping at exit 3. It just so happens that some drivers passing by the exit suddenly realize they’re doing 96 mph with a full tank of high octane gas and a 100 lb. package of black tar heroin in the back.
Somewhere in central Wyoming there is a stretch of gravel road that leads in the direction of a large smear of light on the horizon, like the kind from a large city. Problem is, that city was never on any map and no other roads lead to it.
Somewhere in central Wyoming there is a stretch of gravel road that leads in the direction of a large smear of light on the horizon, like the kind from a large city. Problem is, that city was never on any map and no other roads lead to it.
Ryan McNeil Oh, OK, cool. I was wondering why this had happened.
Ryan McNeil Oh, OK, cool. I was wondering why this had happened.
On June 4th 1974, every car passing through a half mile stretch of I-90 right outside of Chicago stopped. Every car, truck, and motorcycle refused to start until it was pushed outside of that stretch of road, which unfortunately contained no exits.
On June 4th 1974, every car passing through a half mile stretch of I-90 right outside of Chicago stopped. Every car, truck, and motorcycle refused to start until it was pushed outside of that stretch of road, which unfortunately contained no exits.
The removal truck went off the road and ploughed a pathway through the trees. Now it rests at the bottom of the hill with a fully intact MRI machine inside. A lot of people have thought to steal and sell it, but no one has a way to get it out yet.
The removal truck went off the road and ploughed a pathway through the trees. Now it rests at the bottom of the hill with a fully intact MRI machine inside. A lot of people have thought to steal and sell it, but no one has a way to get it out yet.
They cleared out and closed that old auto junkyard YEARS ago. Still haven’t figured out how everything they planted there afterward grew so damned fast.
They cleared out and closed that old auto junkyard YEARS ago. Still haven’t figured out how everything they planted there afterward grew so damned fast.
The abandoned ice cream truck by the trees near the lake won’t move any more, because its engine and tires have been gutted. Someone has turned it into a makeshift survivalist cabin, with way too many supplies and ammo.
The abandoned ice cream truck by the trees near the lake won’t move any more, because its engine and tires have been gutted. Someone has turned it into a makeshift survivalist cabin, with way too many supplies and ammo.
The wooden beams on the dilapidated bridge look an awful lot like a giant rib cage. A small sign near the bridge seems to TURN away from the road as your tires squish onto the bridge. You think the sign says “BEWARE – MIMIC COUNTRY”, but before you can process-
The wooden beams on the dilapidated bridge look an awful lot like a giant rib cage. A small sign near the bridge seems to TURN away from the road as your tires squish onto the bridge. You think the sign says “BEWARE – MIMIC COUNTRY”, but before you can process-
Ark Falls is a nice little tourist trap with many paper mache monsters and claw prints spray-painted on the ground… Except for the couple the size of a swimming pool, that don’t look like they were man made…
Ark Falls is a nice little tourist trap with many paper mache monsters and claw prints spray-painted on the ground… Except for the couple the size of a swimming pool, that don’t look like they were man made…
There is an abandoned Chevy Nova on the side of the road, on that old lovers lane. It has never been taken away because whenever someone tries, they tend to get incredibly bad luck.
There is an abandoned Chevy Nova on the side of the road, on that old lovers lane. It has never been taken away because whenever someone tries, they tend to get incredibly bad luck.
Willoughby Road is a nice little place, a suburb that seems to fulfill every kind of meaning to the term “The American Dream”. It is so nice that once you spend some time there, you become a bit too obsessed with going back…
Willoughby Road is a nice little place, a suburb that seems to fulfill every kind of meaning to the term “The American Dream”. It is so nice that once you spend some time there, you become a bit too obsessed with going back…
It’s not much of a “stop”, but when the old man in a dusty ragged 3-piece suit desperately flags you down, you feel gravel beneath the low grass as you pull off the road. What’s strange though is that as you round the bend into the clearing, he is nowhere to be seen.
It’s not much of a “stop”, but when the old man in a dusty ragged 3-piece suit desperately flags you down, you feel gravel beneath the low grass as you pull off the road. What’s strange though is that as you round the bend into the clearing, he is nowhere to be seen.
Real paradise isn’t some exotic white sand beach, it’s off of highway 371, about mid January as the snow is falling down on a frozen lake just outside the diner window. The coffee never gets lower than half-full, and the wind’s howl underscores the sound of frying eggs.
Real paradise isn’t some exotic white sand beach, it’s off of highway 371, about mid January as the snow is falling down on a frozen lake just outside the diner window. The coffee never gets lower than half-full, and the wind’s howl underscores the sound of frying eggs.
A pair of fuzzy red dice, surrounded by a circle of salt, lie at the center of a nameless crossroads. The wind is picking up, threatening to break the circle.
A pair of fuzzy red dice, surrounded by a circle of salt, lie at the center of a nameless crossroads. The wind is picking up, threatening to break the circle.
Paul Staxx Spraget There’s a hacked construction signboard next to the highway out of Gauntlet City flashing “YOURE THE BEST SORT OF SPAM” on repeat. Dang college kids.
Paul Staxx Spraget There’s a hacked construction signboard next to the highway out of Gauntlet City flashing “YOURE THE BEST SORT OF SPAM” on repeat. Dang college kids.
The old Frosters Freeze on Route 66 is the only business in the crumbling, 50s era strip mall. Still popular with local high school kids, everyone knows to NOT hang around there after midnight. Maybe it’s the tales of silent people that walk through the parking lot, seemingly appearing from, and disappearing, into unnatural mists. Maybe it’s the abandoned funeral home that sits behind it on the next block, a brooding Antebellum style mansion, that no one wants to refurbish or raze.
The old Frosters Freeze on Route 66 is the only business in the crumbling, 50s era strip mall. Still popular with local high school kids, everyone knows to NOT hang around there after midnight. Maybe it’s the tales of silent people that walk through the parking lot, seemingly appearing from, and disappearing, into unnatural mists. Maybe it’s the abandoned funeral home that sits behind it on the next block, a brooding Antebellum style mansion, that no one wants to refurbish or raze.
The fireworks sale by the side of the road appears near every holiday. Rumor is that ordering a list of (quite illegal) fireworks in a specific order followed by saying a password tells the salesperson that you’re good and he shows you his “secret display” of black-market firearms.
The fireworks sale by the side of the road appears near every holiday. Rumor is that ordering a list of (quite illegal) fireworks in a specific order followed by saying a password tells the salesperson that you’re good and he shows you his “secret display” of black-market firearms.
Most say the State of Franklin doesn’t exist anymore, but if you get flagged down by one of their midnight border patrols it’s best to act REAL polite.
Most say the State of Franklin doesn’t exist anymore, but if you get flagged down by one of their midnight border patrols it’s best to act REAL polite.
When driving through Kansas, make sure you stop off at Alice’s Road Cakes. You might not believe spam belongs in a desert cake, but it does when Alice makes it.
When driving through Kansas, make sure you stop off at Alice’s Road Cakes. You might not believe spam belongs in a desert cake, but it does when Alice makes it.
The Hollywood Star Map you found on that drifter’s corpse is a 1986 edition and has the names of the four Golden Girls circled in… blood? Also some odd scribbles in the margins and lines drawn between their houses.
The Hollywood Star Map you found on that drifter’s corpse is a 1986 edition and has the names of the four Golden Girls circled in… blood? Also some odd scribbles in the margins and lines drawn between their houses.
“So the deal is that if you keep going down 87 south for about 20 miles, give or take, there is this little dirt road that you can turn off of and follow. You’ll mostly pass cut down trees and old junk that people bring out there to fuck around with, but just keep going. Eventually, I shit you not, there is this super creepy tiny little church called ‘First Community of the Morningstar.’ Supposedly, and I heard this from Donovan Jacob’s cousin, there is a portal to hell that has been birthing little tentacle demons….so like…. are you free on Friday or what?”
“So the deal is that if you keep going down 87 south for about 20 miles, give or take, there is this little dirt road that you can turn off of and follow. You’ll mostly pass cut down trees and old junk that people bring out there to fuck around with, but just keep going. Eventually, I shit you not, there is this super creepy tiny little church called ‘First Community of the Morningstar.’ Supposedly, and I heard this from Donovan Jacob’s cousin, there is a portal to hell that has been birthing little tentacle demons….so like…. are you free on Friday or what?”
There’s a shitty diner about a mile south of the overpass, Last Resort Bistro, but no one calls it that. Go at night and ask for Mirna.
When the bill comes, write a name on it. If you pay the “suggested tip,” that named person won’t be here by the next weekend.
Pray that suggested tip is just money.
There’s a shitty diner about a mile south of the overpass, Last Resort Bistro, but no one calls it that. Go at night and ask for Mirna.
When the bill comes, write a name on it. If you pay the “suggested tip,” that named person won’t be here by the next weekend.
Pray that suggested tip is just money.
Marty’s Roadhouse is a notorious and successful brothel where a surprisingly small amount of sex takes place. While their prostitutes will accommodate just about any fetish, most patrons just end up talking about the things they can never seem to say to anybody else. The prostitutes there are very good listeners.
Marty’s Roadhouse is a notorious and successful brothel where a surprisingly small amount of sex takes place. While their prostitutes will accommodate just about any fetish, most patrons just end up talking about the things they can never seem to say to anybody else. The prostitutes there are very good listeners.
The road winds through a dynamited pass below an A-frame cabin. The lights in the cabin are solar powered and slowly warm to a cozy orange glow, the water is drinkable, and the bookshelves are well-stocked. There is a boathouse out back with a fueled up zodiac, despite the house’s position atop a high hill and no major bodies of water for miles around.
The road winds through a dynamited pass below an A-frame cabin. The lights in the cabin are solar powered and slowly warm to a cozy orange glow, the water is drinkable, and the bookshelves are well-stocked. There is a boathouse out back with a fueled up zodiac, despite the house’s position atop a high hill and no major bodies of water for miles around.
Thanks everybody! Yeesh, even with permission to make this a special super-sized miscellany, picking submissions is rough. <3 all of you, see you in September!
Thanks everybody! Yeesh, even with permission to make this a special super-sized miscellany, picking submissions is rough. <3 all of you, see you in September!