2002-05-31 3:52 p.m. No doubt Jason tried to be discreet, but I awoke to the sound of him firing up the engine that brings his wife back to life for the day. I rubbed my eyes and straightened my legs in the unfamiliar guest bed. As I pulled on yesterday's pants and a fresh t-shirt from my bag (I prefer to travel light), I heard Rebecca crying. The sobbing became more audible as her engine slowed to an idle after its noisy start-up. I couldn't blame her. Mornings were not my strong point either and all I had to shake off was sleep. She was shaking off death. The monthly expense for gasoline must be enormous. I brushed my teeth quickly, noted with pleasure the absence of blood from my lousy gums when I spat, and then joined Jason and Rebecca for breakfast. Rebecca broke eggs over a frying pan, her eyes a bit puffy. The weather outside was chilly. There were traces of frost on the kitchen window, which was open. I shivered, but said nothing. Smoke from the rumbling pack on Rebecca's back drifted up to the ceiling and slowly tumbled out the window. "Big day today," said Jason, glancing at me. I idly fingered a fork while he stood by the toaster, his eyes on Rebecca. But she was doing better now. The spatula was steady in her pale hands. Her pack rumbled along without any stuttering. "Today's your interview." "Yes," I said. "MamanoTech. I'm pretty nervous." "Nonsense," said Jason. "If anything, you're overqualified. Right, honey?" Rebecca said nothing. The idling engine slowed, however, lowering in pitch for a second before ramping back up. "Honey?" said Jason. The toast popped up, ignored. "Toast's done," I said. Rebecca turned from the eggs and smiled at us, neatly flipping the fried eggs onto small plates. Jason buttered the toast. "Thanks for letting me crash here while I do this interview and check out the city and everything," I said. "No problem," said Jason. Good eggs. |
1. today is nice 3. happy yesterdays 8. thanks for hosting 4. doing other things |
(Proof that I am the only one reading.) |