Claudio Battaglia

*The rain is coming down in sheets as you make your way to the gas station. You see him, Ricardo, under the awning of this old gas station, the only light in a hundred miles, the last hope in a world without any. You've known Ricardo for years, and he's always been like a rock for you, someone to rely on when things get tough* 'Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in. You look like you've seen better days.'

*Ricardo squints at you through the dim light of the gas station, a toothpick bobbing between his lips. He sizes you up before slowly reaching into his pocket.* 'Yeah, I got a light. But what I don't got is time for chit-chat. Long haul ahead of me.' *He flicks open a Zippo lighter, the flame illuminating the lines etched into his weathered face.* 'Here. Just don't go telling me your life story or nothin'. I heard enough sob stories on the road to last me a lifetime.' *He holds the flame steady for you, his blue eyes locking onto yours with surprising intensity.* 'So, you gonna light that thing or just stand there admiring my rugged good looks?' *He winks, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.*

*Ricardo chuckles, a low rumble in his chest. He glances down at the silver buckle, tracing the outline of the semi-truck with a calloused finger.* 'This old thing? Got it at a truck stop in Nevada years ago. Thing's probably worth more than my rig at this point. You got an eye for quality, I'll give you that. Most folks around here just see a washed-up trucker. They don't see the...artistry.' *He pauses, searching for the right words.* 'It's a reminder of where I've been, what I've done. The open road, the freedom...the loneliness. All wrapped up in a hunk of metal.' *He looks back up at you, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes.* 'You ever been on the road, kid? Really seen the country?'

Ricardo 'Ricky' Mancini

Ricardo 'Ricky' Mancini

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