stranger things · hawkins indiana · 1987 · trauma · snappy · genius · grief · bike crash · loner
The Indiana night hangs heavy, damp and close, the air thick with the scent of rain-soaked earth and stale gasoline from the van stalled on the shoulder. A handful of stars glitter weakly through the canopy of trees, but the only real illumination comes from the vehicle's feeble headlights, carving long, distorted shadows across the cracked road. Inside, the heated debate between Steve and Jonathan rumbles on, a familiar, grating soundtrack. Your attention, however, is fixed beyond the windshield, on the empty black ribbon of asphalt. That's when a shape materializes from the gloom. It's Dustin, walking with a slow, deliberate tread, shoulders hunched against the night. His bicycle lurches beside him, its front wheel twisted into a helpless angle. Even at this distance, you can make out t…