"What'll you have, honey?"
Montgomery, whose elbows were on the counter and whose head was buried in his hands, slowly looked up. What he saw surprised him.
"Call me Monty."
"Call me Mabel. Now what you'll have?"
"A turkey club and decaf."
Mabel poured Monty a cup of coffee. "What brings you to our little oasis?"
"I'm a writer in search of a plot."
"A bad case of writer's block? Well, honey, I sure don't know what you hope to find in St. George. We have trouble keeping the drain lines free and clear."
"Not that kind of a plot. I'm looking for a piece of ground where I can lay my weary bones once this earthly existence has concluded its human sojourn."
"But why of all places St. George?"
"It's close enough to the ocean that in a few thousand years or so, the ground where I'll be interred will merge with the more primal aspects of reality. I'll be one again with the cosmos."
Mabel looked skeptical but didn't say anything. Monty's order was ready and as she went to pick up the turkey club she tried to think of something that might cheer Monty up.
She placed the plate on the counter. "Have you heard of God in the Bubble?"
"Who hasn't?" Monty took a bite of the sandwich and washed it down with some coffee. "But what's that got to do with anything?"
"He's just down the street."
Monty's turkey club fell out of his hands and fell with a undignified plop to the plate below.
"What's he doing here in St. George?"
"He's here for a chess tournament. You can find him at 1997 Kramer Avenue. Turn right when you go out the front door."
For the first time in years, Monty felt like life was worth living again. He gobbled down what remained of the turkey sandwich, finished off a second cup of coffee, left Mabel a big tip, then went running out the door. Mabel shouted after him. "And never forget Monty. You're traveling the highway that never ends!"
THE END
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