On September 24, 2013 I returned from a two week vacation during which I flew to Texas and ended up taking a 3600 mile road trip across six states, along the way visiting four national parks and catching up with a friend I hadn't seen since the first time we met five years ago, when I threatened his life over a card game in Morocco.
Along the way, my friend and I decided to look into local ghost stories and ended up with one of our own. This is the conclusion of that story.
The first time it happened I only caught it from the corner of my eye.
The Subaru’s dashboard readout had still been misbehaving, no longer even pretending it was properly calculating the miles remaining in our tank – from 600 it had counted down to 500 or so, then back up past 600 – but just around midnight the whole thing went completely blank, then flashed briefly, before going back to normal.
“Did that just go blank?” I asked.
“It did, then it flashed 1:00.” Mike replied.
“So now the clock is boned too?”
“That’s the thing," he said. "It displayed 1:00 on the ‘miles remaining’ part.”