The black sedan came to a halt in front of the church just outside the village. The sun was beginning to set and the roof of the church took on a serene orange shade. The driver craned his neck and looked back at the raven-haired woman he'd just driven for the last two hundred miles. He flicked his tongue and made the toothpick jutting out of his mouth switch from the left to right side of his face. Just like in the last two hours, the man didn't say a word.
Sandy picked her bag up from the seat next to her and pulled on the handle to open the door. She stepped outside and the humid air hugged her body like an old friend. Through the open window she looked at the driver trying to figure out if she should say anything. She had already paid for the ride and they hardly had any other business to discuss, so in the end she decided to dip her chin ever so slightly to signal that their transaction was done. The driver got the message, put the car back in gear and made a u-turn without so much as returning the nod. The dust kicked up by the tires hung around Sandy as she stood clutching her bag and looking up at the church's bell tower. She half expected the bells to start to toll.
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