Jamie Graham

My short story today was inspired by Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer” and is called Half Way There.

We were half way there when Mary Lou needed a comfort break so we pulled up in a primitive  looking little place called Jonesville, population 263.

There was a diner that still looked open, although it was unsettling to see that the letters ‘n’ and ‘r’ had fallen off the sign outside.

The sullen waitress had all the hallmarks of a high school dropout and she barely looked us in the eye as she took our order.

Eight minutes later and we were still without our coffee although Mary Lou was looking more relaxed after using the bathroom.

There was what can only be described as a filthy looking old man hunched over the counter with a toothpick sticking out of his mouth. I could see from his reflection in the mirror that he was wearing a gold medallion but it looked out of place in amongst all his grey chest hairs.

I felt sad for the man briefly as he was obviously living a life of solitude in this ramshackle little town.

I watched as Mary Lou sipped her coffee (which had finally arrived) and wondered how long it would take for the tranquillizer to kick in. I couldn’t bear the rest of the journey listening to her prattle on and on about the same old things; her late husband, the man in the spacesuit she’d had a liaison with at a fancy dress party and how I should be a better driver after all these years.

About 20 miles down the road, Mary Lou finally shut up. I put the car stereo on and sang out of tune to Johnny Cash all night long as I drove the rest of the way there.