This is a bad one.

Daily writing prompt

You’re going on a cross-country trip. Airplane, train, bus, car, or bike?

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This is a bad one. The night before last, I had a dream about this. No it wasn’t in the old days with either of my old road buddies, Bill Null ( Captain Zero) or Billy Pebbles. It was solo. And it was the last thing I ever wanted to do. in the background the sound track was provided by Bob Segar:

Here I am, on the road again
There I am, on the stage
Here I go, playing star again
There I go, turn the page

Well you walk into a restaurant all strung out from the road
And you feel the eyes upon you as you’re shaking off the cold
You pretend it doesn’t bother you, but you just want to explode

I had tears in my eyes. I had a wife, home, kids, pets, a garden, and here I was on the road again? I had turned that page.

On the Road Again?

Yes, I had my old pack, and Charlie, my guitar, was in its case by my side. But I was no young man, not a Pius Itinerant on a rip through Amerika. I didn’t have crash pads in Boston, Baltimore, and New York. I wasn’t infamous in thirteen states and jurisdictions.

This was not fun. It was a tragedy.

Reassuarances Needed

When I woke up, I needed immediate reassurances that I was indeed in my stable, sane, and secure world. Make the coffee, feed my cats and dog. Make sure the dog does not steal the cat’s food.

I looked over at the melting snow to where my garden was emerging from the winter, and I looked towards the maples beyond the fence that I was tapping for syrup. My wife should be home soon. I was not sifting through shifting sands for some makeshift stability that might come if I got a steady gig.

Dreams can linger, a muffled echo of bad times. Or like the aftertaste of a poorly brewed cup of coffee, its sour taste clings. But I pet the dog with renewed attention, stroke Sabrina with special care, kiss my wife with increased attention, and plan the garden with renewed pleasure. Sometimes we get these unsavory reminders of how things could be. It’s up to us how we react to them.