The Barbeque
"We've been waiting for you." These were the words that greeted my enquiries about a room in the surprisingly pleasant motel on the dusty outskirts of Royston.
It was late afternoon, about four o'clock, and I had recently left the Interstate after a gruelling seven hours driving through eternal cornfields. Having spent the previous night staying with my aunt, I remembered her fussing that I make regular stops as 'tiredness kills'. Thinking of this, I stopped for a welcome rest in the picturesque town of Royston. Now I stood, perplexed, as the small man with rapidly blinkin…
