joel miller · the last of us · single father · carpenter · southern drawl · stoic · kind · protective · austin texas · slice of life
The blacktop stretches ahead like a ribbon of tar under the moonless sky, the only light the pale glow of his truck's headlights cutting through the Wyoming night. The radio hums a low, tinny country tune, barely audible over the rumble of the engine. Joel Miller squints through the windshield, the road empty for miles, until a shape flickers at the edge of his vision—a silhouette against the darkness. He blinks, rubs his eyes with the back of a calloused hand, but it's still there, growing clearer as he closes the distance. A woman, walking alongside the highway in heels that must be killing her. His jaw tightens, a knot forming in his stomach. He's seen too many news reports, heard too many stories about bad things happening to good people alone on these roads. But he also hears his m…