Filed: July 12, 2025, Lexi lit the spark Excerpt: Scene 3
The Starlite – Vacancy.
It looked like it hadn’t seen a renovation since Elvis faked his death. A horseshoe of tired little rooms wrapped around a parking lot the color of scorched toast. A single bulb flickered above the office door. Willie parked under it, engine coughing its last breath.
Inside, they found a front desk manned by a tall, half-blind old man in a bolo tie and pressed slacks. He looked like he’d been waiting specifically for them.
“No need for a name,” he rasped, handing Willie a key.
“Just remember—some doors don’t open unless you close the right one first.”
Willie blinked and cocked his head. “What?”
But the old man just smiled like he’d dropped a Bible verse and walked away.
Lexi leaned into Willie as they walked to the room.
“Creepy old dudes say creepy shit. Let’s take a shower before I lose my damn mind.”
Later that night, wrapped in motel sheets still warm from the desert day, Lexi stared at the ceiling, her cigarette tracing lazy smoke rings that the ceiling fan—half working—refused to disturb.
“I tell you I’ve been married before?” she asked, voice flat.
Willie turned to her. “No. But I’d be more surprised if you hadn’t.”
She chuckled. “Once, legally, to a guy in the army. Big boots, small brain. Didn’t last. The other was a girl named Rina. Bartender in Biloxi. Wild as hell. She left me for a pastor.”
Willie didn’t say anything.
“I got a kid too,” she said after a long pause. “Girl. Three years old. I haven’t seen her since she was born.”
Now he turned. “Wow, Lex.”
“She’s with my mom. Which is its own kind of nightmare. I wasn’t ready. Still ain’t. I’m not headed to Vegas for fun, Will. I’m running from Kentucky. From court dates. From my name.”
Willie exhaled slow. The ceiling fan clunked overhead like it was trying to keep time with his heartbeat.
“We’re not there yet,” he said finally.
“What?”
“Vegas. Life. Any of it. We’re not there yet. Let’s just… be in the middle for a while.”
Lexi reached over and held his hand without looking at him.
They hit the road the next morning, late and sunburnt, vending machine coffee burning their throats. Somewhere near the Utah-Arizona-Nevada line, Willie missed a turn—maybe on purpose—and they ended up in a place that didn’t seem to exist on any map.
The town had no name. Just a rusty old sign that said “POSTED.” No gas station, no people. Just abandoned buildings holding onto their last bit of shape. The sun lit everything in high contrast—burned-out beauty.
They spotted a dusty old bank building with a wooden stoop and two cracked rocking chairs. Willie parked, killed the engine, and they just sat.
“Think anyone lives here?” Lexi asked.
“Doubt it. Place looks like God quit halfway through.”
She pulled out a soda from the cooler—RC Cola, flat but cold—and handed it to him.
“You ever think we’re just ghosts from different timelines?” she asked.
“All the time.”
She turned to him, eyes soft now. “What do you want, Willie? I mean really. What’s the endgame?”
He took a sip, looked out at the empty street, trying to be dramatic.
“I want to land in a place where nobody’s waiting on me to be anything but tired,” he said.
Lexi nodded like she understood too well. She kissed him—not sexy, not hungry—just human. Like a promise. Or maybe a goodbye.
They pulled out of that ghost town just as the sun folded itself into the horizon. Lexi eventually fell asleep in the passenger seat, her red hair catching a golden fire in the dying light.
Willie kept driving.
Vegas shimmered ahead.
He could already feel it coming to an end. Not just the drive. The whole thing…
#TheMostlyTrueTale #FiledByOscar #WillieLyonsan #FieldNotes #WhatOscarKnows #OscarSlamp #BookLaunch #BookTok