The Mad Giggler on :
I'm glad they paid for the stuff. They seemed pretty nonchalant about breaking in and doing the Goldilocks thing.
Sunday, March 11. 2007By The Light of Day
I woke to the smell of canned ham frying in the kitchen. The covers slid off as I sat up and stretched, twisting and grimacing with pleasure. "Wow. It feels so nice to sleep in a bed again." When I heard my own voice, I froze.
Was it a dream? It couldn't have been. It was too real. I padded out of the bedroom. The sliding glass door was locked, and braced securely with a dowel. That wasn't there last night, I thought, but then I shook my head. It was there last night. It had to have been. It must have been a dream. I wandered into the kitchen, shaking my head. "Well, if it isn't Sleeping Beauty." David grinned. "Breakfast is almost ready. Nothing gourmet, but it will do." I glanced at the stove. Thick slices of canned ham sizzled in a frying pan, swimming in their own packing oil. Oatmeal, complete with cinnamon and raisins, bubbled in another pan. I forced myself to smile. "Good. I'm starving." I was surprised to find out that what I said was true. About half an hour later, I pushed my chair back from the table with a satisfied sigh. "Oh. That was good." David grinned again. "Good. You ready to get moving again?" "Yeah. I guess so. Where we going now?" "Wherever our feet take us." He saw my expression fall, and continued, hurriedly. "Eventually, we've got to get to D'arville, so we're heading in that general direction. But we've also got to stay hidden, so we're not going to take the fastest route. We're just going to go, and try to avoid running into anyone."
I nodded. "Look," he said. "I know that you've probably got a million questions. The last few days have basically turned your world on its head. I know that you probably feel like I've been ignoring you. It's just that . . . well, I'm sorry. I'll try to do better. Here's what we're going to do. Yesterday, I saw a couple of backpacks around here somewhere. We're going to fill them up with supplies, clean up, and take off as soon as we can." "OK." "Do you have any money?" I checked my wallet. Two tens, two fives, and a twenty. I handed them to David with a questioning glance. "We can't come anywhere near paying for what we're going to take, or what we've used, but we ought to leave something. Write down everything that you pack up, and we'll leave them a list and this money. He put a hundred dollars from his own wallet with my fifty, and left it on the table as he carried his plate to the kitchen. "I'll go find the backpacks," I said. As I walked around, I reflected. He still hadn't answered many of my questions. I still didn't know why were running. I still couldn't understand what had happened with my magic, or what would happen to it. He was still the same person whom I had wanted to throttle just the day before. Somehow, though, his apology made me feel better. I glanced out the front windows, and saw the trees swaying in the breeze. "It couldn't have been a dream." I whispered the words to myself, but doubted them even as I said them. For a moment, I considered telling David about the dream, but something kept me back. This was private. Trackbacks
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The Mad Giggler on :
I'm glad they paid for the stuff. They seemed pretty nonchalant about breaking in and doing the Goldilocks thing.
Eleytheria on :
Seems to me they had a lot of cash on them for a couple of college boys on the road.
Johnny Elblows on :
You might be right. I don't know. I try to carry an emergency fund with me.
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