Truck Stop Cafe Time Lapse Analogue Thought Process Continuum 295

If you read between the lines, who knows what might happen? (Sorry, no refunds).

He really missed
her chin
at night.
He too
was afraid
to go
to sleep.
She had
gone in
and never
come out.
It was
a long time
to wait.
The faces
eventually
ran into
the same grain.
The sheets of night stars downed.
He rented a room in a cheap hotel.
One of those
where the camera-man complains
about not having
enough room
to focus on anything.
It was much easier
this way.
I noticed
a feather
had fallen out.
She kicked her socks
across the room.
He smiled when the firemen arrived.

Thoughts are transmitted

from mind

to mind

each

day.

The most readily received

have not been

consciously realized.

The distance between

minds

can be measured

within

the frame

of

reference

to all

three of the tenses.

If,

at that

moment

the sound

on the

television had not

cut out,

he would

not have

heard her

timidly

knocking

on the

door

down

stairs.

That was a telephone

call he could never answer.

It wasn’t

until the annual Christmas parade

that he stumbled

upon her again.

She was huddled

atop

a float

in a red velvet,

one-piece bathing suit and

one of those

'suck on'

rubber hats

with white,

fake

fur

trim,

posturing and steadying

herself

with the other

girls holding on to

a hidden railing.

At last someone

had convinced her

to capitalize on her beauty!

The plastic bells

wore their

chrome in defiance

of the metallic illusion

they had been

strung up

to create.

He felt a pang of anguish.

He had been appraising

the beauty of each

of the girls

amongst the glistening

streamers

on the floats

with their tinny,

recorded choirs

distorting

from the megaphones,

lulled into

complacent voyeurism

through the anonymity

allowed by his place

amongst the observing

shoppers.

She had not

seen him

hidden there

in the crowds

of nuclear

families

striping the main street

footpaths.

Some relieved balloons

made a run for it

whilst parents' hands

restrained their

distressed

little

ex-captors.

(Oh, no!)

In reality

he was

never there.

That

was

the

pain

people

cherished

when

love

had

ended.

Many

people do not like

to talk

like this,

but

I’m glad

I

talked

to you.

This is the best

wrong

number

I’ve ever had!

In regard to the importance

placed on firsts...

In an age

where the population

of the Earth has swelled

to a proportion that

it has never

before been remembered

to have

equaled,

this

is the first breath

the baby has ever drawn.

There has never

been before

a Sunrise like this

in

the

history

of

the World.

“So..!

That

is why

they are called,

‘seconds’!”

It was

inevitable

that some people

would

try

to make

every one

the way

they wanted

them.

In the order

of nature

there is

a regulation

to everything.

Only

the actions

of the human

beings are

the exception

to the self-

sustaining

pattern of

existence

mutually followed

by the natural

world.

Many people love

to drive

cars, hauling

around space

for thoughts

and dreams in

the empty seats

in the back.

The Sun really

was incredibly

bright

on that particular day.

June the twelfth,

nineteen fifty-four,

an elderly couple

were driving through

the countryside

when their head

lights revealed

a shocking sight.

The road ended.

Their home was entered

after several weeks

by concerned neighbors,

but nothing was found

disturbed.

On the kitchen table lay

a pile of bank statements,

a writing pad with each

and every page

meticulously scribbled

over.

The food, arranged

in a state of preparation

by the stove,

though now spoilt, was

similarly left

in a state

that indicated an abrupt departure.

Thin curtains

by the back door moved,

but

they realized

it

was only

the effect

of a slight breeze

as they lilted back

to again

hang

motionless.

The neighbors

were surprised

to find

the doors

unlocked.

There are many

questions that remain

unanswered.

We

discovered

their daughter

working in a ticket

booth

at a theme

park.

It

took two years.

The wooden

spoon stood

rigidly set in the

solidified bowl

of

cake

mixture.

I have always

wanted

to solve

the mystery

of their disappearance.

It

haunted

him

at the edge

of sleep,

every day at

midday,

when I awoke. Then,

two weeks ago,

there was

an anonymous

telephone call.

She had

run away at fifteen.

There was a note

attached

to the child’s bib

with a large

pink

enamel-clasped

safety pin.

Now,

as an old man,

I have heard

very little

for several years.

The lack

of movement

in the material domain

has revealed

other zones

for my speculation.

After much

contemplation,

my only

response

to answer

this

mystery

is

that they were

all

driven

mad

by

beauty.

The empty

note book,

the plainness of the

furnishings,

the child

who ran

rather

than face

the indignity

of not knowing...

each

was fighting

against a

desire

to escape

and all had

realized that

the ignorance

they fought with

had defeated them

from

the start.

Thousands

of

people

simply

disappear

every year.

A few

find

what

they are

looking for

and come back.

Some

never

do.

For us

there is still

hope, but

at the end

of the book,

time

still

wins.

All of this

pales into insignificance,

in comparison

with the millions

of collective horror stories,

that each woman

or man knows,

about someone

who they loved,

whom

they could not

stop.

That was all

a long time ago.