The Way to the Lighted Cafe
The Way to the Lighted Cafe Though privately in a rush, that didn't come through in her movements. She drove calmly to a rest area off the highway, bought and languidly drank a coffee, sitting for an hour at a long table in front of the window wall reading a book while people came and went. She was reading, as she appeared to be, but also waiting, though, again, this wasn't apparent. Everyone passed by. Many conversations took place all over the plastic cafeteria, amplified and disfigured by the acoustics but ultimately rendered as one loud murmur. She shut them out to keep reading until the sky started going dark and she still sat in front of the windows, now watching the cerulean deepen by the minute. Road lights and headlights came on, their light fractured and splayed upon the glass and, at the same time, the world just behind her – the tables, bathrooms, fast food, customers, travelers, and her own self – rapidly came into focus and melded with the asphalt, traffic
