Page 2 of Fly's Path

***

No. No. No. I can’t blow up another spaceship…the universe doesn’t need any more space dust. Maybe I need to add a new alien…should he be freakish with nineteen eyes and weird fins for feet, or should I make him seven feet tall with wings?

Like that hasn’t been done to death. And how realistic would it be to have a bird-man in space…

Nah, that would be stupid.

Why can’t I focus today? It’s the perfect weather to write. Unlike up north, winter here is blanket-on-the-rocking-chair weather. Curl up with a cup of tea and breathe in the crisp air.

Everything in the world I need to create…

So why is it that the only thing I can think about is Dylan falling in love? For the same reason I’m writing science fiction instead of romance.

Love is a pipe dream that leads to nothing but pain, and I’ve had enough pain in my life to fill a thousand books.

The light rustle of the breeze blowing through the crinkling dry leaves is suddenly drowned out by the rattling of a muffler.

There’s only one person who drives a truck that sounds like that: Jimbo.

And it’s never good when he drives down the lane to my little shack in the woods.

Worry freezes me right to the spot. Not that I wanted to move from this rocking chair.

Move.

Hide in the forest until he leaves.

That would be cowardly. Jimbo is a nice guy…most of the time.

He hops out of the lifted truck and walks over, stopping in front of the porch steps. “How’s it going, Sheri?”

How does it look? No, don’t answer that. The truth of my perpetual mess would depress even the happiest person. One of these days, my life will look like those white picket fence people. The ones with two kids, a dog, and a husband that adores them…

I almost snort at that pipe dream. You live in a shack in the middle of the woods. “Been better. How is Tracy Jo?”

“My wife is grumpy as always.” He grins.

That describes her so well. I’ve never met another person who makes grumpy into their entire identity like Tracy Jo. “Good to hear she’s doing alright.”

“About that…” He kicks a pile of dirt next to the flowers that are currently in hibernation. “I don’t want her to turn that grumpy attitude on me.”

Is that even possible?

“So, I need you to move out.”

Not again…Please not again.

“You know I’d give you a few more weeks if I could, but we have bills to pay as well, Sheri.”

Should I plead with him? Try to explain all that’s been going on with my life? “I’ll pay you back for the two months that I’m behind.”

“I know you will, and so does Tracy Jo, but we can’t wait for you to get the money. We need to get a renter in here. You do understand, don’t you?”

No.

No, I don’t understand how you can throw a person out that you have known since kindergarten. You can’t leave me homeless. But it’s not like this hasn’t happened before. Over the last few years, I’ve lost my apartment more times than I want to remember. At least sleeping in my car isn’t so bad in Beach Haven. There’s no real crime here, so it is just as safe as sleeping in the middle of the woods with the doors unlocked.

“Tracy Jo said you could hassle us, but I told her you wouldn’t do that. Am I wrong?”