Mel himself feels those itchy feet again. Trains, planes, cars, RVs, motorcycles, bikes, horseback, or walking … oh the choices he has! Traveling alone or with someone else; with a pet, or not? The open spaces and rolling hills and ocean tides beckon to him from near and far. Sometimes he doesn’t have to go far; sometimes he does, to scratch the itch in his feet. ‘Road Trip’ echoes in his mind as he surrounds himself with maps of the country, the world, and even the universe with a real fantasy dream trip. “Travel, in the younger sort, is a part of education; in the elder, a part of experience,” Francis Bacon. Mary sits in her chair every day and stares out the window or at the TV, flips through a few magazines that arrive in her mail box, her one outdoors excursion every day, and wishes there was someone to talk to. All the people are gone. Her family left long ago. Her husband Herb is ‘she doesn’t know where, heaven or the other place’ after he left. He was a very good man to her and everyone so she assumes he is flying with wings playing golf in the clouds about now.