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“You think that will actually wake you up, don’t you?”
Maisie rolled her eyes at Rodger as he poured himself another cup of coffee. At first she thought it was cute how he insisted on maintaining rituals as if their lives hadn’t been completely turned upside down the moment they won a trip on “the most scenic route across the southwest.” Now she found it infuriating. She sneered at the steak knife in front of her that was left from the breakfast service.
Roger had drunk nearly a whole pot of coffee in the last twenty-five miles. He considered offering Maisie a cup, but decided he didn’t want to risk another mug hurled at his face. Instead, he put the pot back on its cradle and held his cup of stale, tepid, black liquid as if it was as magical as his first cup of the morning. It tasted awful but he refused to let Maisie see that she was right.
“Yes.” He answered at last.
“Yes what?” Said Maisie. The disgust in her tone made his spine prickle.
“Yes. I do ACTUALLY think this will wake me up. Besides. I don’t see you coming up with any new ideas to get out of this… nightmare.”
“You refused to try my ideas. So I stopped sharing.”
Roger opened and closed his fist around his napkin. The pure white cotton was stained and crinkled from overuse.
“I wish you would stop altogether.” He muttered under his breath.
Just then a waiter came by with a food trolly and switched out the coffee pot with a fresh one without so much as a smile.
“Aaaand look. Here we are again.” Said Maisie. “Just like the other seven hundred times. The same asteroid and the same old pot of coffee…”
“Every twenty-nine minutes. Clockwork.” Roger poured himself a fresh cup and took a sip.
“Oh my god! You actually think it’s going to wake you up?!”
Roger took another sip. He looked at Maisie with a smug smile and said “one of these times…you’ll stop.”
Maisie ran a finger over the handle of the knife, watching as Roger dabbed at his chest with his napkin. It amused her how the red and the brown stains had mixed together after all this time.
