4-02-2024.
1:14 pm. Actor's in place.
The curtain raises.
'Lights, camera action,'Donatel announced.
7:21 p.m., time posed.
Peter and Tonya looked out of the little window of their riding room as the wheels rolled on down the rails. Passing through the hills, a small brook, and the sunset. They were moving on rather quickly.
The conductor comes knocking on the door, requesting the tickets, which Peter gladly hands over to him.
It was the second stopping, loads of a few more passengers aboard Ed.
His own guilt, of his fantasy of a woman that was not his. Which was not a big significance, but she was popping in. It was not easy. I was just thinking about cheating on Tonya.
In the past, standing in the streets, like a little beggar boy, places he searched. Deep down, he started breathing heavy, like it was starting all over.
Thinking of Connie and his little brother, Troy. The letter that she had written to him.
Dearest friend, you know that I don't write often, I have lost Jack. Troy and I will be struggling years to come. Jack is not here, but I am strong enough to make it work.
Remembering Troy's call, 'We are alone waiting, feeling our lowest, please come home.' It's not a pretty picture, Jack is gone for good. He is now at a happy place. I miss his onversations. Eating together as a family. His arms around me, tucking me into bed. Our unfilled promised to one another, I miss you, Jack.
Earlier, Connie told him how much she missed him. It was a short phone call, but they talked a fewminutes.
My dearest friend, brother. I have been struggling in my head. My heart sank to my toes. No more dancing in the moonlight, like I did when I was a kid. Shadow dreams caught on the rails. I wish you were here with us. Harriet Lawrence is cooking Duck-ala-O'range, vinegar eggs, sweet buttery yams, and Creme Brule cake. I am fixing corn bread, bread-butter pickles, and string taffy.
Some things will change, but my heart won't. Love you, your crazy sister, Connie. Sending hugs and kisses.
Peter could envision Connie picking white Lillies. He knew she would be standing by the rails, enjoying the beautiful view. Her favorite flower was yellow Jonquils. He had planned on getting her some and lavender hyacinths.
He would have Tonya them up, he hands her his card, 'Can you pick up some yellow Jonquils and lavender hyacinths? They are for Connie.
Tonya smiled, 'If I can find some?'
Tonya watches the hills roll by. She filled her plate, eggs, and toast with blackberry jam. And, takes a glass of orange juice.
Peter joins her, but he fills his plate with bacon and buttered hot rolls. And, a cup of black coffee.
Peter says, 'Tonya, please don't hesitate to tell me anything.' She was awfully quiet.
Tonya replies, 'Skip your words, just eat, we'll be OK. I am craving sponge cake.
Peter smiles, 'You bring pregnant chairs to life, in waking hours.
Tonya agrees, 'Sure do, good rest, far from it, and a preaching husband.'
Peter laughs, 'I don't think your mustard in my eyes, but gravy in my thoughts, soup in my tummy, and desert on my lips. Each day is filled with many beautiful things.
Tonya confides, 'Spare me the puzzlement, dress me liberated, your my Island-Man. A black bean Joe ( coffee ), with a long snore. You're my perfect match.'
Peter laughs, 'A woman with recter, soon we will be in Canada, here's your passport, my lovely wife.'
They will be staying in customs until sanctions would allow passage.
. . .
Peter opened the journal, filled with their wedding pictures.
Peter laughs, 'Look, you tossed the bouquet, and the stool pigeon caught it.'
Tonya adds, 'Oh, here it is for all times, Chico, the dog cleaning your black mules. Dog spit and all.
Peter smiled, 'This is a good one, the Reverend's wife, holding beans, some are in her hair. What a windy day? Never mind, I think she has dandruff.'
Tonya gasps, 'The bride kissing her boss.'
Peter calls her on that one, 'Yes, he finally became her husband.'
Tonya replies, 'The bride dancing as the New Mrs. Gibson.'
Peter says, 'My famous words, your dating hole, your mouth belongs to me.'
Tonya muttered, 'That was a beautiful bed, filled with all the digs, sugar pops, and waxed fangs. Still in all, the Gisbons slept well after fixing the rails.'
Peter says, 'I rest my case.'
'That's a wrap,' Donatel announced.
The curtain falls.
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THE LAST RAIL |*R-18*| UPDATING
Mystery / ThrillerThe curtains open up, and the plays start. 'Lights, camera, action,' a voice called out. Everyone listens, as the music plays out, a Keith Urban song.
