A Traveler zoomed over the hillside toward the ocean. The wind rushed through his quick and trusty car, catching the collar of a most exotic suit, the fancy of some foreign land.
The Traveler breathed deep, picking salt off the rushing gusts. It was close, the only constant of the world, the bridge aquatic, and he knew just the spot to watch it breathe.
Indeed a cliff appeared, protruding well into the rolling waves which roared and tore at such an inconvenience. The spot was narrow now, the Traveler thought, and wondered how long it had braved without him. Then a figure caught his eye, and if not for the curiosity beside might have spoiled his calm spot.
So the Traveler, forgetting in a fit of curiosity any annoyance raced on down the road and to the cliff’s edge before skidding to halt. With a shuffle and hop he left his car behind to join the figure, who after a brief glance turned back toward the waves.
‘Beautiful,’ the Traveler said, and earning no reply studied the peculiar car and its peculiar quiet driver. ‘You know, I can’t imagine where you got those.’
The Traveler paused again, if only briefly. ‘The stitching, the fabric and color…’
It was unique, this figure’s suit. Not like anything southward, and the west was tired of those shapes. But the east had never cut a seam that way.
‘By dress alone I can’t place you, a first for me you see. I travel, have traveled really to every king and corner of the world, and I must say that odd carriage beside you offers no clues either.’
The Traveler searched this most vexing figure, losing patience with each more desperate thought. Every guess he meant to voice rang hollow before he found the words, and so at last and with no small chagrin he gave up. ‘I go everywhere and cannot guess your place.’
‘What a sight,’ the figure said, with hand held toward the ocean. ‘So rare.’ Then he hopped up to his car, a jagged mass of metal unlike any other. ‘Tell me, what’s the cost, to miss your road?’
The Traveler watched the figure sink within his car, and thought. ‘Well, I must eventually return.’
The car rumbled and shook, all but swallowing the words. ‘Mine is death.’ Then it roared, and shot out from the cliff into the sky.