"C.J. at the Crossroads" by Misti Rainwater-Lites
 

C.J. was going to the crossroads but without a guitar. He hadn't ever really wanted one. The new moon was in Scorpio. Sex. Chocolate. Nicolas Cage in "Leaving Las Vegas." 
 

The names of the two roads that crossed were MAGNOLIA and FREESIA. C.J. tried not to think about Tom Cruise and Bath & Body Works. He tried not to think, "Geez. I'm just a garden variety fuck ass loser from Nowhere, Oklahoma." 

His desires were scribbled in grape scented marker on a sheet of Ramada Inn stationery. 

"I WILL MAKE A MILLION DOLLARS IN MY SLEEP.
I WILL GET LAID SOON BY A SOUL MATE OF SOME KIND.
I WILL NOT GET RUN OVER.
I WILL DIE AN OLD OLD MAN COZY IN MY BED."


C.J. screamed his desires in a drunken drawl because dinner had been half a bottle of bottom shelf whiskey.

"So mote it be," C.J. said, thinking of Thor. Thor was on the poster that had hung on C.J.'s boyhood wall. 

Walking back to the Ramada Inn C.J. bumped into a disoriented Whataburger employee. The tag on her shirt said LACI.

"Are you coming from the Tom Petty concert?" Laci asked.
"Hell no."
"Oh. I wanted to go but I didn't win the contest."
"There are worse fates."
"I don't know about that. You got a cigarette or a joint or LSD?"

"No but I'm sure Tom Petty does."