I watched as the sun peaked it's brilliant orange head up over the horizon. I marveled at the colors of the sky, all the reds, purples, and blues indicating the dawning of a new day.
I hadn't been able to sleep in days, and the only thing that had kept me going was to watch the sunrise as I sat on my front porch, a cup of coffee in hand, and a notebook on my lap.
I am a writer for the local newspaper. It wasn't as though I had had any training for the job, I had happened on it by chance when I first moved to this sleepy little town. They were in need of a writer and having dabbled in short stories and poetry I thought that I could help them out. The boss, Mr. Tate, didn't care much that I had had no real training in journalism and as long as I could write a column everyday to keep these good old country boys happy I'd keep my job.
My job was to write about the goings on in the town of Westline Missouri, and to tell the truth there wasn't that much going on. It was one of those towns that if you blinked while driving through it you missed the town. There was one main road that stretch the entire length of the town and the rest were small gravel roads that branched off to the small houses of the people who lived there.
About the only thing I ever wrote about was the town dinners the church would hold, or the fact that Mr. Doublin, the town drunk, had again been arrested Saturday night and was released on that next day so that he too could attend Sunday service.
I had started to doubt moving here. I had wanted to get away from the city, to go down to where there would be peace and quiet, and I could get away from the memories of an old boyfriend that I had recently broken up with. I found a beautiful old farmhouse down there and bought it without a second thought. I loved it when I first came here, and the townspeople helped out a lot to restore the house to living conditions. It was so quiet and peaceful, you never heard any sounds after nine o'clock but the songs of crickets and frogs. Everyone was in their house and most in bed by that time.
After a couple of months of "living this country life" I started to doubt if I really should have moved down here. There was absolutely nothing to do, and being restless by nature, that was very hard for me. Sure everyone in the town was willing to talk, but most of it was about the weather, or gossip about the other wives in the community.
That was another thing about living here, there were absolutely no single men. They were either older and married or still too young to care anything about. I was getting lonely for a man, and I thought that if I didn't get one soon I might die.
I went about my routine, going to work, joking around with Mr. Tate. He was a character and probably the only one I'd miss if I left. He was a jolly man, he'd never say exactly how old he was but I'd place him in his mid 60's maybe early 70's. He was round, and had a very red complexion. He kind of looked like Santa Clause, and because of this, as he told me, the church had him dress up in the red suit every Christmas for the kiddies. He was always ready with a smile, and joke to start the day off.
We'd sit after hours and I'd pour my heart out to him. He was the only one that I told about the relationship that I had had. I had caught my boyfriend with another woman the day after he had proposed marriage and that was the reason why I had left. I couldn't stand to stay there and look at the bed that my fiancΓ©e had fucked another woman in.
I also told him how I was thinking about leaving and going back to the city, I thought that I had had enough time to recuperate and I really needed some excitement. But he said that he would never loose the best columnist he ever had. I knew he was just saying that to make me feel better, and it really did.
This is where I started to have insomnia, it was turning from spring to summer, and at first I blamed it on the heat. I didn't have central air in the farmhouse and it was way too hot to sleep. I knew that it was something more than that. I didn't want to leave Mr. Tate behind but I didn't think I could stay either and the guilt of leaving was what was keeping me awake at night. That and I really needed a man.
It was the morning I spoke of earlier, while I sat in my old rocking chair watching the sun come up over this one horse town that my life changed. I sat there sipping my coffee, wondering what it was I was going to do, stay or leave. As these thoughts were going through my head I heard a car coming up the road.
I thought it was a little odd for a car to be driving around this early. Most people never drove around here, all you had to do was walk a little ways to get where you needed to, and no one ever went into town for groceries or the sort until Saturday.
I watched in curiosity as the car came up over the hill, past the church, and then stopped next to my house. A young man got out of the car, looked around the town scratching his head in confusion. It took all I had not to laugh, I cleared my throat, and he turned around in surprise.
I kept my eye on him as he slowly walked up the drive and on to my front porch. This gave me time to study him, he was handsome, standing about six-foot tall, with dark brown hair, and as he got closer I could see the intense green color of his eyes. He had a pretty mouth for a man, his lips were full, and he held his lips in such away that it always looked as though he was about to say something very important.
I had to place him as a "city person" he didn't have that rugged look of the country. His skin wasn't that leathery tan color of hard working men. I also placed him around my age, mid 20's. I smiled as he approached the steps to the porch.
"Excuse me Ma'am but I'm looking for a town called Westline. I think I'm lost. I haven't seen a road sign in forever and I have a business meeting that I'm going to be late for if I can't find the town."
His voice was nice, a low tenor with just a touch of a southern accent. I couldn't help but laugh then, I didn't mean to but the look of confusion in his face repeated in his voice. "You're standing in Westline." I said after the fit of laughter subsided.
"Oh well, aren't I lucky." He looked around again, "this is a very small town! I'm glad I ran into you, or I would have just past it."
"Tell me about it. May I ask your business here in Westline? Need something to print for the paper this morning."
"Well that's confidential, but I'll give you a hint. It has something to do with that paper you write for."
"Hmmmβ¦I see. So, would you like a cup of coffee or something? You got here a little early. Mr. Tate won't be in the office for a least another hour or so."
"I know and I would love some coffee."