WRHAMMONS.COM: THE WRITING, RUNNING, ETC. WEBSITE
"You don't have to think. I'll drive."
Laura glanced down, over her raised cup of coffee, at Myers's bowl of oatmeal. "I see you're turning over a new leaf," she observed with a wan smile.
Myers speared a grape with his fork as he swallowed his latest spoonful of mush. "Not really. I just realized that there are reasons other than longevity for eating right."
"Like constipation?" Laura asked with the same smile.
"You said it; not me." Myers spooned up more of his breakfast.
"...We are interrupting this live news conference to bring you breaking developments from the Middle East. A rash of suicide bombings--"
Laura's mouth hung open over her coffee. "It's started--"
Myers looked across the roadside cafe at the television set in the opposite corner. "What?"
"Suicide bombers. Now they know there's a heaven for them--"
"Don't be silly: the tape only aired last night." Myers reached for a slice of dry whole wheat toast.
A murmur passed through the crowded dining area, and Laura turned her head to listen to the gossip in the booth behind her. She turned back, to face a Myers eating his breakfast in oblivion and murmur to him, "They've closed the border."
Only now did Myers look up at her. "Why?"