Saturday, May 01, 2004

Tomorrow, maybe

I woke up to the vibrations of my cell phone on wood. A most unpleasant sound. The time reads 0730. Groaning, I colapse onto my pillows. I reawaken at 0800. When I am again sweeter smelling and kempt, I leave the house, ever silently.

252 to Honea Path. Left at the last light.

I take the directions. I drive past businesses, homes, and farms in the morning rain. Llamas, steers and horses graze in the wet grass. The llamas are my favorite... such fun looking animals. I arrive Honea Path ten minutes late.

I'll be at the Black Cow between 8:30 and 9:00

9:10. I drive through town. I turn leftat what must be the last light. No where is my destination to be found. I go further down 252. There are no more lights. I retrace my steps. I, in fact, go left and right past every light. No Black Cow. After thirty minutes, I am consumed with frustration. I abandon my quest and return home.

I cry. Difficult tears eventually come. I want to sob loudly and let all know my frustration. I wanted but to talk with him. I wanted to find the damned coffee shop! I call him.

We just left fifteen minutes ago.

He does not now want to go out. He just went out! Maybe tomorrow. Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow. Will I hear anything else?

Why didn't you call?

With what cell phone? Mine gazed in haughtiness at me from its spot on the bedside table, where I hadn't touched it since 0730.

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