New Story....2

The dark motel room reeks of cigarette smoke and musty newspapers. The curtains are drawn, only to allow the mercury vapor colored illumination that covered the parking lot, to stream through a small slit, making a line on the dark colored carpet. Next to the queen sized bed, the nightstand held the digital clock and the standard Bible that is in every hotel and motel room. Beer bottles shared the space with the glasses of the occupant of the room. They are small wire framed glasses, those reminiscent of the 1800s.

The man lying in the bed, still in his clothes, was tossing. He finally sat up, unable to sleep, and ran his hands through his hair. With a deep sigh, he turned and planted his feet on the floor. His boots, the black motorcycle type, were still on. The blue jeans he wore were tattered and torn at the knees. A dingy white t-shirt covered the top of him. His hair was long, dark and curly. The stubble on his face was 2 days old. He placed his hands on the bed, and with a grunt, slowly stood. As he steadied himself, he paused, slowly turned and walked into the small bathroom. Leaning over the sink, he slowly looked up into the mirror. Seeing his bloodshot eyes, his frazzled hair and the growth on his face, he felt as though he was at his lowest he had ever been. He scratched his face. With a deep sigh, he turned and disrobed. The shower came on, steam filling both rooms.
****
As the sun started to rise, he walked out to the office, room key in one hand, duffle bag in the other and plopped the key on the counter, turned, without saying a word and got into his car. It was a beater sports utility vehicle, rust and all. The engine turned with hesitation, and then finally roared to life. He backed out of the gravel lot and onto the two lane highway. He was gone. Away from all that was there, all that he had been through.

He drove and drove. He had no destination. Where ever he felt like stopping was going to be the place to stay until the next day. The man was tired. He had seen a lot of things in his 40 plus years of living, and as images of pain, suffering and losses in his life rushed through his memory while he continued driving, tears would come, and go; tears of anger and tears of sorrow. This was a man filled with pain; a pain that he so desperately tried running from, every day of his life. Yet, he could never escape it. It was always there.

He continued driving until he saw the complete cycle of the day. And as he needed nourishment, he spotted a roadside café and decided it was time for a break. The clunker shuttered to a stop in front of the building.

New Story....

Ive started a new piece. Dont have a title for it yet. Will post a few tidbits in a little bit.

Well then...there you have it...Karma...

Have you ever been right...and know it, but havent been recognized for it? You know, sorta like "Yeah, well I told you that bridge was going to collapse, and it did and now looked what happened.."(I know the bridge thing is a bit much). Yeah, you know what Im saying. People who are told things are going to happen and dont pay heed are helplessly lost. The you can dance around sayin "Neener Neener Neeeeener! I told you so, told you so...."...um...no....not really. On second thought....no. Dont do that. Why? Karma. Thats why. Karma, or God's way of saying "See, you did that after I told you not to...". The telling is the gut feeling you get "...maybe I shouldn't do this...nah! Its so much fun though! Wooo hoooo!!!!!" BAM! KARMA! In the face. In the gut. In the...well...you get the idea.

Welcome!

Welcome to those who came over from Facebook, I hope you enjoy your stay. Please feel free to comment about anything on here. Peace!