Hi all. Yes, it has been years. Literally. Very sorry about that. But colour me inspired. I don't think its fair to leave stories unfinished, so I'm going to be working on finishing what I have started. Hope you enjoy the chapter, if anyone is reading.

I Just Thought You Should Know

Chapter 3: Those Damn Rockets


Roy (he sits two rows in front of me) used to work at the Muncie Messenger. He remembers Doyle. Apparently, my sanity is now questionable because I voluntarily shared an apartment with him.

and he doesn't even know Paris


I was wondering…

What are Finn and Colin doing?


It had started earlier in the week, when she had been drinking her morning coffee in the park across from her hotel. It was horrendous, really. The rooms were dark, dingy, and full of mysterious stains that she tried to avoid examining too closely. She imagined that her grandmother would have frozen in horror.

Regardless, she had escaped her small room early one morning before the events of the campaign trail started to sit peacefully on the park bench next to the playground. Sipping her coffee, her face shifted between laughter and sadness watching the children run through the playground, milling around the centre attraction. It was a huge construction, made of metal and consisting of several levels with ladders for kids to make their way to the top. In the shape of a rocket.

Her eyes couldn't help but fixate on it, watching children climb through it and make their way up to the cone. Their faces radiated with the happiness and naïve hope of youth.

Then the stupid roadside café had napkins with little rockets printed in the corner.

A clueless reporter asked Obama about the future of the space program.

And she spent a night watching the sci-fi channel.

It was curious that she would inflict this bizarre type of torture on herself.


I just thought you should know –

The crappy little TV in my motel room is stuck on the sci-fi channel. They are playing a twilight zone marathon. But all I can think of… all I can see is the rocket that sits on my desk in Stars Hollow.


So, armed with a box of Kleenex and a carton of Chunky Monkey purchased from the 7/11 down the road, she sat and watched True Love again. Because he was willing to wait years for her, and she was willing to put her life on hold for him.


There are one hundred and sixty-six tiles on the ceiling of my motel room. Two have strange stains that I've decided it is in my best interest not to think too hard about what caused them.

Or what caused us to selfdestruct so suddenly.


Ijust thought you should know –

I nearly rang you last night. Six times.