Red Cure (on hold)

Part 3

                                                                                                                                                           July 29, 2039

              

               Even though I’m totally furious with the Biker, he did have some good ideas and we will now be traveling by garbage truck. And this particular garbage truck stinks. I wanted to travel by car, we even found a cool car in an abandoned dealership but we couldn’t have a cool car, no, we had to have a garbage truck. You should have seen marine Stevens when we found it; he looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

              

                                                                                                                                                                         Later

              

               We are out of Oregon, and now we’re headed through Nevada. Marine Stevens wants to find a nice ranch somewhere for us to stay, permanently and I think that would be nice.

               I have to stop writing now getting car sick.

               Lakes…. I haven’t seen any; does Nevada even have lakes?

               Marine Stevens says there are lakes, I don’t believe him.

               Just passed a lake, marine Stevens was right. I wish I had a camera so that I could document everything I’ve seen. I’ve probably been almost everywhere.

               We set up camp at a truck stop. You would not believe how comfortable the booths are once you tear out the table and push them together.

               There are coyotes outside, I can see them wandering around, but don’t worry we locked the door.

               I can’t sleep; the coyotes are too loud.

               And…I was thinking about the Biker. That man….

               I just don’t know what to say about him, even if I just think about him my blood begins to boil. It just figures that the first eligible guy I meet in four years is a total Jerk with a capital J, and a cocky jerk at that.

               Who is it that he reminds me of?

               Peter; that’s who he reminds me of, I suddenly dislike him a little…less; not very much less but still less. Peter had black hair, that’s probably why he reminds me of him.

               I know what you’re thinking.

               The answer is no, he isn’t Peter. Sure he looks like him, and he’d be the right age but that doesn’t matter.

               Peter Shay is dead, has been dead for the past four years, and four years can seem like a lifetime. Every year seems like ten when you’ve lost someone; He’s been gone almost my entire life, why would he come back to life now?

               Marine Stevens is taking my paper and pen away so I’ll sleep, goodnight.