The story so far:
Chris bolted out the door terrified of what was ahead of him. He got to the end of his driveway and looked both directions. Once again, he didn't see a soul around. No sign of life at all. Only this time, he noticed that there was something wrong. Something terribly wrong.
It was like he stood amidst a crazy dream. This was not how he remembered things. Not how he remembered the end of his driveway or his street. He wiped his eyes as if it had been a dream and looked up again. The roads were still abnormal. Had he drank that much that night? His thoughts kept retreating to the fight with Stasia. God he loved her. What would he do if something had happened to her while she had gone looking for his dumb ****?
He began searching the rural streets he had known for 24 years vigorously. Streets he had known. He didn't even care if he ran into the rabid dog, he just had to find Stasia. He had no clue where he was or where he was going. He felt as if he were in another town; one he'd never been to before. Yet he searched thoroughly. He turned down a road named Stanton Street and it was here that his whole life ended and began at the same time.
"Stasia! Baby, I'm so sorry! I just want to tal..." Chris ended his calling to his beloved wife quickly. The figure he was calling for; the one that was identical to that of Stasia's was definitely not hers. Not one Chris wanted to encounter at all.
He really was losing it. He stared. Almost in a daze.