Web’s saga continues. It is the must-read book of the summer! (cough it will be out next spring)
W. Web approached the picnic tables set up for breakfast cautiously, clutching the orientation binder in his hands. He waved as he saw Jeff, the man he had met preaching on the street outside the hospital. Here in the camp outside of the city all of the cult members he remembered from the recruiting sessions were much more relaxed, their nervous edge gone. Web grabbed a paper plate from the serving line and began carousing down the platters deciding what to eat.
“Excuse me, I’m new here, do you know if there is a serving spoon for the eggs?” he said to the woman in front of him.
She turned, amused, and smiled with a quizzical brow, “serving spoon? No, just imply to the platter that you’d like some.”
“Imply to the.. I’m sorry, what?”
The women held her empty plate out to the platter and looked expectantly at it. W. Web couldn’t tell if he had blinked while she pulled a fast one or if he just hadn’t noticed eggs on her plate all along, but when she pulled the plate back it was full.
“We always felt serving spoons were redundant anyway,” she said with a smile, “after all, what else were you going to do with it?”
Web inched his plate toward the inanimate platter looking a bit confused. He jerked his hands back as an omlete suddenly weighed down the plate.
“There you go! A natural. If you want scrambled, try not to look so confused. And smile for sunny side up.”
Web offered a timid smile back and muttered his thanks, shuffling away to clear his head in a less strange environment. He slid past the filling picnic tables and headed back up toward his cabin, the woman’s voice wafting behind him.
“If you’re headed back to your bunk, make sure you touch the door with your left hand first, otherwise the door won’t unlock!,” and then after a pause, “don’t worry! It will all start making sense!”