"I can control my destiny, but not my fate. Destiny means there are opportunities to turn right or left, but fate is a one-way street. I believe we all have the choice as to whether we fulfill our destiny, but our fate is sealed" (Paulo Coelho).
The door swung viciously open and Sophia walked straight to the diner's counter. "Is it here? Is my manuscript still here?" she frantically spoke.
The old man working behind the counter slowly turned around,"Calm down ma'am. Your friend took it with him. I think he went to find you."
"What? You mean that guy, Tristan?"
"Yes, the dark haired fello' with the motorcycle."
Just as Sophia was about to say another word, the screech of tires interrupted her. Both Sophia and the old man looked through the window to see what was happening outside. Sophia's eyes widened as she realized that her truck was being stolen. In her haste, she left her truck running with the keys in the ignition.
"Are you serious?!" Sophia shouted as she ran outside, "I cannot believe this!" In her grief, Sophia fell to her knees on the road. She watched the truck disappear into the horizon. Sophia felt completely distraught and in her disbelief she took an uneasy seat onto the road. There was nothing she could do except to find acceptance in the situation. The sun started to set and a few stars began to peek out from the semi dark veil. The disappearing sun reflected off Sophia's sunglasses as she stared out into the scenery. She sat there on the hard surface road desolate; she pondered to herself, "What else could go wrong?" Just in that second, she realized that storm clouds were about to roll in...
Exhausted from the ride. Tristan took off his helmet and placed it on the back of his bike. He had arrived at the address written in the manuscript. He looked up at the marvel which towered and loomed over the city; The Austonian. He walked in the lobby and looking around in awe. The security guard quickly honed in on Tristan. Tristan's black boots, torn jeans, leather jacket, and OD green t-shirt set him apart from the suits bustling around the lobby. The guard walked up to him and asked,"Can I help you?"
Tristan nodded slowly and pointed at the address on the manuscript, "Yes. I am looking for this place."
The guard glanced at the manuscript,"Floor 42. But they just closed at 6 P.M. It is 6:30 right now."
"Thank you. I will come back tomorrow." Tristan went back outside. He looked up one more time, staring straight up to the 42nd floor. As he stared into the sky, a small water droplet hit his face; then another, and another. The sky had darkened quickly, and the rain started fall rhythmically. Tristan quickly mounted his bike, threw his helmet on, and push the ignition switch on his bike; but nothing happened. He pressed it again, but the engine sputtered.
"Goddam bike! Piece of crap. Start damn it. Start." He pressed it one more time, but it was futile. "I gotta get out of this rain." He remembered a Knight's Inn just 5 miles from downtown that charged $39 a night. He looked in his wallet. $135. He grabbed the handlebars of his bike and began walking it in the direction of the inn. About 30 minutes had passed and as Tristan walked, the rain came down harder and harder. The droplets became a downpour, and it began to obscured his vision. Soaking wet he finally could see the neon sign of the Knight's Inn. Just one more road to cross and he was there. As he was about to cross, a huge semi-truck came barreling by, and the water from the road was like a tsunami hitting Tristan, drenching him even more. Tristan stepped out onto the street again to cross. He thought to himself, "What else could go wrong?" Then it happened. A loud squeeling sound broke the rain, and a pickup truck seemingly out of control skipped around the corner. A loud bang could be heard, and Tristan suddenly found himself on the ground next to his bike. He couldn't move, but he turned his head to see a pickup truck disappear into the darkness. Then nothing but black....
(To be continued)