Rain beat the windshield. I clicked the lever up a notch, speeding the wipers in a futile attempt to keep up with the sheets of water pouring down. The two-lane back roads were bare aside from myself, so I put on my high beams. Nothing to see. Even the painted on lines were fleeing the cracked pavement of the road. There were shells of old barns and farm houses, looming shadows blending into the night sky on the horizon. The last house with lights on was at least 45 minutes ago, just before I turned onto this road at the sign that read “Eternity Road.” According to the tiny green sign standing between the pavement and the never ending corn fields, it was 60 more miles to the highway.
My eyelids were getting heavy. As I felt a yawn beginning, I glanced down to the console to find the button for the radio. I barely saw him in time, forgetting the radio and gripping the wheel to swerve and miss the figure standing lop-sided at the edge of the road. I regained control and slowed to a stop several feet ahead. I was shaken and needed a minute to slow my heart, catch my breath. My eyes darted to the rearview mirror but the figure was gone. I don’t remember a thud or a bump. But it happened so fast… I didn’t hit him. I did miss him, right?