The Sudden Appearance of Hope

Chapter 68

A day in a

café

diner?

Call it a diner.

Booths.

Counter.

Coffee machine.

Bacon.

Syrup.

Waitress in a funny frilly white apron and a green jacket with her name embroidered in gold. Rainbow.

At first I thought it was a brand name, or a style decision, but then she said, “Hi, my name’s Rainbow, what can I get you today?” and

how did I come to be in this place?

Road outside, four lanes of traffic going this way, four lanes of traffic going that. A thin line of scraggly scrub in the middle. A pavement just wide enough for a wheezing mother and a narrow pram, for the poor people to walk on

because even the poorest of the poor have to drive; this is America,

General Motors, Ford, Nicola Tesla, DC/AC, the victory of the highway, the death of the trains, I had read something…

A plate put in front of me, bacon, tomato, sausage, potato, toast, strong black coffee I didn’t order this, did I?

“Do you want something more?”

An empty plate.

Someone has eaten my food, when I blinked, and now the plate is empty and I said, “No,” because I was full, really full, properly, properly full and my head ached and it was

now

which was two hours later than

then

which had been a now

which was dead.

And a woman whose parents had decided to call her Rainbow said, “More coffee, honey?”

And I replied, “Though the night was made for loving, And the day returns too soon, Yet we’ll go no more a-roving, By the light of the moon.”

She said, “Oh isn’t that just so cute…”

but a man stood on my foot and I said, “Fuck off!” and he just made a face at me and kept on walking.

And I was hungry again, but I kept on running, just running, and in the morning Byron said, “Shall we try another today?”

and I can’t remember what I said in reply.