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Taking The Mature Exit


“I want to go back to,” a committed individual started to say from the passenger side seat before pausing, “to the exit we passed a couple miles ago.”

Rhodes looked at his wife of three years, “well Mrs. Warrior you do, remember that truck stop with the greasy food?”

Mrs. Warrior who used to be called Miss Lane laughed, “it was not greasy, it was an honest short stack meal worth the price.”

Continuing down the secure marital paved path, “I meant it Rhodes there something there,”

And it was at that moment Rhodes Warrior heeded the instruction by putting the directional signal on before carefully moving where he could safely turn around.

Following the signs Rhodes was soon reliving the recent milestones that advertised interesting points announcing, ‘only few more miles left.’

“These interstates are nice where there are many places to pull off and,” Mrs. Warrior started.

“And?” Rhodes prompted for more information.

“Figure out where you are headed,” the faithful bride interjected, “unlike other places there are streetlamps, food and a place to rest.”

“Pretty unbelievable, huh.”

Finding the long-standing location Mrs. Warrior formerly Miss Lane took a second and pondered her husband’s comment feeling the car slow down and come to a complete stop. “This is the twenty-four-hour diner where we met,” she loosened the seat belt that was a protective trap and looking into the window the mirrored images sent a message.

Driving in the designated area for those who were single Miss Lane was putting the metal to the pedal exercising the youthful right idea ‘get things done immediately.’ When suddenly hidden in the trees there was a marquee offering short stack pancakes for only fifty cents and included coffee in a cup. Having the ‘need for feed’ independent spirit and commandeering the ‘rent a wreck’ supplied by the company she pulled off proceeding to follow the signs that pointed her to the luring deal.

Finding a parking space, the fresh out of college thrill seeker flipped her keys before putting them inside the jeans pocket. Pushing the door, a counter emerged displaying a lonely place despite one person sitting there peacefully loitering using a newspaper as a social excuse.

“Republican, Democrat no matter who you are, we need to come together as a nation,” the road warrior routine costumer yelped and the staffer dressed in the franchise issued uniform returned refilling his mug,

“You got that right,” she said, “we need to come together and be strong, Rhodes,”

Sitting down Miss Lane properly acknowledged the discussion when the server approached with a menu, “I do not need that,” she answered not wanting anymore temptation, “just the short stack pancake coffee bundle highway promotion.”

“Coming right up,” the employee did not even scribble inside the corporate issued notepad.

“You seem very young to be out at night,” Rhodes inquired.

“I have my degree, sir, and I am prepared for this darken journey no longer needing a guiding light,” Miss Lane retaliated with a confident style.

“Watch those mile markers and know where you are,” Rhodes eyes never left the periodical.

When the special came on the blue-plate Miss Lane found the butter and syrup then applied the condiments thinking the exercise would enhance a better meal.

A few silent minutes ticked away, and Rhodes decided to make something to the evening, “where you headed?”

“Towards my goals.” Miss Lane chomped back.

“And what are your goals?”

“I don’t know,” Miss Lane being truthful replied, “all I know I have all the time in the world to get them and despite the darkness soon a new day will be here, perfectly sunny.”

Getting up Rhodes handed the piece of paper and a dollar bill to the cashier, “well good luck, Miss?”

“Lane,” the twenty something confirmed.

“Miss Lane, drive safely,” Rhodes handed the money and change was returned.

Striking the keyboard that defined Miss Lane’s priorities she made a 360-circle rewriting the future and was interested in the new character who appeared in the chapter entitled, “Going North, South, East or West”.

“I will,” she made sure the stranger knew about the new double nickel strategy inserted into the cruise control program. As Rhodes slumbered into the evening air the intrepid naïve self-starter jumped from her seat.

“Excuse me,” she interrupted acting the concierge part, “what is your name?”

“My dear, they called me Rhodes Warrior and I have been driving these treacherous thruways so long that my Kodachrome has been my rock and I never have felt any pain,” the gentlemen quoted.

“But are you happy?”

“I am wealthy and wise,” Rhodes answered.

Back in the present the pair were entertained watching the same vision the automobile beacon spotlighted, “Mrs. Warrior?” Rhodes whispered, “Are you happy?”

Blushing the main attraction planted in the road warrior's itinerary noticed an illumination on the special finger where the ring still sparkled, “when I am on the road again with you, yes I am happy.”


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Book: Shattered Sighs