TheIndigoSultan
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Mar 30, 2006
- Posts
- 113
A Midnight Dinner On A Cold Wet Night
Rain beat against the window like a never ending carwash. The wipers kept swishing back and forth diligently, knowing they were in a battle that could not be won. The sheer noise of the rain drowned out the sounds of Hank Williams Sr. coming from the old radio. Roy sat hunched over the steering wheel, staring straight ahead, trying not to have a wreck. There hadn't been anywhere to pull off for at least twenty miles and he was not about to sit on the side of the highway, waiting for some tired trucker to swipe him.
Fancy lay on the seat beside him, sleeping. Her long, black body was stretched out and her head had rolled onto his lap. She was twitching to some dream, probably involving chasing a rabbit or a squirrel. Damn, he envied her. She never seemed to worry about anything.
The inside of the automobile had grown hot and humid. Roy would feel that his t-shirt was glued to his back and to the seat and he felt like his blue jeans weighed fifty pounds. He wanted nothing more than a shower and a good nights sleep. For a moment he though about rolling the window down a bit, but he was afraid it would wake up Fancy. At least one of them should be happy.
Finally, after another twenty minutes, he saw a sign for an exit. He didn't care what gas stations, what motels or what restaurants were there. He didn't care if it was a little hick town or the outskirts of a small city. He just knew that the exit lead off the highway. He turned his car into the exit and headed down the dark, wet curve. Soon he was travelling on an old country road. He could hear the gravel kicking up under his car. It seemed like the gravel below and the rain above were trying to beat him to death. Roy sighed and kept his eye out for signs of civilization.
Down the road a few miles he spotted a dinner, or that's what he thought it was. It was hard to tell through the rain. He pulled up to the rounded, metal building and jumped out of his car. Fancy was still sleeping and probably would be for awhile, so he left her. Roy dashed toward the glass doors, but he was soaked before he even got three feet.
The interior of the dinner was well light and blessedly dry. The booths all had red, vinal cushions and tiny junk box selectors. Big glass tins of sugar stood next to bottles of hot sauce. The floors and walls were all white tiles and the counter was chrome. A few truckers sat at the bar, nursing coffees and plates of eggs. A tired old man was behind the grill, slinging hash.
Roy slide into a booth. His jeans squished under him. For a moment, he considered going to the men's room to try to dry off, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. He sighed and pushed his shaggy brown hair back from his face. He pulled his metal framed glasses off and set them on the table. His shirt was to wet to dry them on and he knew that the napkin would only scratch them. He glanced around for a waitress, but didn't see one. At least he wasn't stuck in his car, or in the rain. Roy patted a napkin over his head, trying to get some of the water out.
Rain beat against the window like a never ending carwash. The wipers kept swishing back and forth diligently, knowing they were in a battle that could not be won. The sheer noise of the rain drowned out the sounds of Hank Williams Sr. coming from the old radio. Roy sat hunched over the steering wheel, staring straight ahead, trying not to have a wreck. There hadn't been anywhere to pull off for at least twenty miles and he was not about to sit on the side of the highway, waiting for some tired trucker to swipe him.
Fancy lay on the seat beside him, sleeping. Her long, black body was stretched out and her head had rolled onto his lap. She was twitching to some dream, probably involving chasing a rabbit or a squirrel. Damn, he envied her. She never seemed to worry about anything.
The inside of the automobile had grown hot and humid. Roy would feel that his t-shirt was glued to his back and to the seat and he felt like his blue jeans weighed fifty pounds. He wanted nothing more than a shower and a good nights sleep. For a moment he though about rolling the window down a bit, but he was afraid it would wake up Fancy. At least one of them should be happy.
Finally, after another twenty minutes, he saw a sign for an exit. He didn't care what gas stations, what motels or what restaurants were there. He didn't care if it was a little hick town or the outskirts of a small city. He just knew that the exit lead off the highway. He turned his car into the exit and headed down the dark, wet curve. Soon he was travelling on an old country road. He could hear the gravel kicking up under his car. It seemed like the gravel below and the rain above were trying to beat him to death. Roy sighed and kept his eye out for signs of civilization.
Down the road a few miles he spotted a dinner, or that's what he thought it was. It was hard to tell through the rain. He pulled up to the rounded, metal building and jumped out of his car. Fancy was still sleeping and probably would be for awhile, so he left her. Roy dashed toward the glass doors, but he was soaked before he even got three feet.
The interior of the dinner was well light and blessedly dry. The booths all had red, vinal cushions and tiny junk box selectors. Big glass tins of sugar stood next to bottles of hot sauce. The floors and walls were all white tiles and the counter was chrome. A few truckers sat at the bar, nursing coffees and plates of eggs. A tired old man was behind the grill, slinging hash.
Roy slide into a booth. His jeans squished under him. For a moment, he considered going to the men's room to try to dry off, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. He sighed and pushed his shaggy brown hair back from his face. He pulled his metal framed glasses off and set them on the table. His shirt was to wet to dry them on and he knew that the napkin would only scratch them. He glanced around for a waitress, but didn't see one. At least he wasn't stuck in his car, or in the rain. Roy patted a napkin over his head, trying to get some of the water out.
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I learned a lesson in patience. That is what happens when you join a new board and think no one will join your threads and create too many. This is an easy thread. We can keep going, but we don't have too. If we do, there is no hurry. I know you mentioned pulling out of Angels, so we could also put it on hold for awhile, if you wish.
