Marine 3: Island of Dreams

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It was strange standing in the parking lot by the diner where I first met Michael.

It felt like it had been a long time since I was last here, and as I walked towards my mustang, it was hard to realise that it had just been the previous evening that I had gone to that shack and started the adventure of a lifetime – two lifetimes!

The sun was shining, and the trucks rolled by on the freeway oblivious to all that had occurred to me.  I glanced at the diner to see the same plump waitress serving the truckers their breakfasts. I was almost tempted to drop in for a coffee, just to announce my return to the real world, but decided that it would never be as nice as the coffee that I had taken just a few minutes ago in the centre when I said farewell to Michael.

“No rush, old man; just use this to call us when you feel you want to come back,” he said, passing me what appeared to be a normal cell phone.

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