Waylaid

I woke up on a cot in my office, slipped on my boots, walked down the street through the preamble of a blizzard, and was heartened to find the diner open. I drank plenty of hot coffee there along with Elvis's favorite (two slices of French toast with peanut butter and banana in between and four slices of bacon on the side) served to me by a 40 something Pinky Tuscadero. The jukebox played Lionel Richie's "Hello" as we said goodbye. It is for the surreal within the ordinary that I live.