Part 2: In Wait (Also, when I said a 'true short story' I didn't mean that the story is true. Its not. Its fiction but it fits the true short story format for as much as I know about it.
He had meatloaf with corn, green beans and mashed potatoes and gravy. Roll after roll smothered in butter and glass after glass of sweet tea. And then to finish it all off-cherry pie ala mode. The pie sickenly sweet.
Even though it had been past midnight when Harry stopped, Rosie was there. Rosie was always there. In fact, he was hard pressed to think of a time when Rosie wasn't. He'd been in late evening, early evening, mid-afternoon, late morning sun up and the middle of the night-still Rosie, who at 55 still thought/acted/looked like the 20-something waitresses she employed was there.
Harry was pondering this as his stomach lurched again. His stomach must of been able to read because they were closing fast on a sign (in interstate blue) that read 'Rest Area 1/4 Mile'. He downshifted and prepared to stop. He left the truck idling and climbed from the cab. He shifted his pants about his large middle and strode to the restrooms.
The main lobby door glided open automatically with a whoosh-'Space age technology on the interstate', he thought. Harry pushed his way into the men's room and into a stall. It was late and the rest area was empty. Outside the parking lot was full of 18-wheelers purring in their idle. Inside, all was quiet except for the beeps and clicks of the automatic flushers on the toilets and of course, the noises coming from Harry's very own body.
[EDIT-Originally published to Blogger on 9/24/11.]
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