Writing Wednesday: Glenrio

I like alliteration, and I like writing. In honor of both, every Wednesday I will post a new prompt and respond to it in 500 words or less. Post your links and stories in the comments!

Today’s prompt has been taken from Paper Hangover! This is a great blog, so make sure to go visit!

Write a story beginning with the cliche, "Another one bites the dust."

Another one bites it hard into the dusty windshield, making a loud cracking noise and leaving a greenish smear that will not go away no matter how many times we turn the wipers on. Nate is sitting in the passenger seat eating greasy French fries from a paper bag we got at an equally greasy looking drive through and flipping between the radio stations. We’re near the border of Texas and New Mexico, so everything is either country or static, and after a while he just turns it off.

“What are we doing again?” he asks, turning to me.

“You know. Dad’s place.”

“Yah, yah. But why’s do we have to? It’s just a stupid hotel.”

“If it’s stupid then why’d you want to come?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, and turns to face the road.

We sit quietly in the car as the heat washes over the road creating rivers in the distance. I let Nate mess with the windows and open the glove compartment and flick the cup holders up and down before I tell him to just sit still. He tells me a story about some kid in his grade who had a party and got busted for it. I laugh because that’s what he’s hoping for, turn my blinker on, and cross a few lanes to exit Route 66 for a dusty overpass and a sign with the words “Glenrio” in large peeling print. Nate shifts in his seat as we pull up to an abandoned hotel. There is nothing on either side of us but dust and weeds, and we stare at the hotel for a few minutes. When we get out Nate kicks his feet, avoiding the glare of a single bullet hole in the wall.

“I don’t like this place, Katie,” he says.

“Me either, Bud,” I tell him.

After a few minutes I grab some flowers from the cooler in the back and push them into Nate’s hands. He sidles up to the bullet hole without looking at it and places them beneath it. We stand there till he finishes wiping his eyes and get back in the sedan.