Saucy

“The stars are only the father of your fate. The mother is your own soul.” - Johannes Kepler

 

          As we went to bed last night Ed met me in the bathroom, as I brushed my teeth.

            “Are you sure about this, Tom?”

            “It’s fate, Ed. I’m following the Pixie.

 

*

 

            We booked our flights back to England this morning, while waiting for the Greyhound to arrive. The earliest flights we could get leave on Thursday, so we’ve got a few days to kill yet. We’ve decided therefore to stop off in Virginia Beach on the way back.

            As the bus arrived I explained Ed’s current challenge to Sharona and we all agreed that he had to make his move on the journey. On boarding the bus, however, there was absolutely no viable option. Sharona was taken with the idea though and insisted he make his move. We gave him until sunset. He seemed a touch irritable.

            “Mind not still on Miranda is it Ed? Surely you’re not hung up on a girl?” I asked him.

            “I’m not a machine mate.”

            He came over and sat himself on the aisle next to me, forcing Sharona across the aisle and away from me. She moved willingly, smiling at him.

 

*

 

            The bus has now taken its first major break of the trip and I’ve found a spot to update this. I’m in a place called Jackson, in Missouri. It’s the middle of the afternoon and we just ate in some miserable looking motorway diner. The setting, though perhaps depressing as an every day occurrence was inspiring for a brief visit. It reminded me of so many American films. I kept expecting something dramatic to happen.

            Sharona and I amused ourselves well enough though, by getting into a food fight with the sauces. She got ketchup all over my cheek and nose, then licked it all off. Ed groaned.

            We’ll be beginning the next leg of the journey in a minute and Ed is sorely running out of time to pull off his challenge…