a query and a bleg

First, the query: effecting a move to South Carolina (current events may have other plans, but) near Lake Marion area. Are there ANY writing groups in that area I might join?

And now the Bleg: which reads better?

THIS

or

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVV THIS? VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

The world about me blurs for an instant, yet people notice nothing. I watch as clothing styles shift, some people appear or disappear as if shadows on a wall. The layout of the bar stays uniform, but the many things that define ‘bar’ shift to become ‘greasy spoon’ diner. I stay silent for a moment as I settle into this new place/time. Another day on the job and a job I’m always guessing at.
No one ever tells me anything. The coffee cup before me is half-full; where I drifted in from before, it was a soda without ice. I don’t like coffee, but looking over the bar for the soda fountain, I see only Barista food serving equipment . No soda jerks on this world-line. I pick up the mug, still warm, so This Rendition of me hasn’t been here for to long.
“You want me to top off that Joe for ya, Rick?” Asks the waitress behind the bar. Obviously, I am a regular here, just as I was a regular at the bar I walked into on the other worldline, only my name there was Robert.(not Bob, that version Hated ‘Bob’.). Her dress is an archaic eggshell white with blue piping at the edges, her name plate says ‘Maggie’. Thirty seconds ago, she was wearing a white blouse and blue jeans and her embroidered top said ‘Mags’. And this girl is a brunette, hair up in a net, while ‘Mags’ had been a bottle blond letting her locks flow. “Sure thing. Ya got a paper laying around I can get a gander at?” One advantage of using shadows of ourselves is they already having some familiarity of the space time we are traveling too. Hard to access all the memories, but those are there too. “Yeah, Charlie bought one this morning, just want the sports or the obits?” “The whole thing if he’s done with it, if’n ya don’t mind. “ I check the status of my stomach to see if this version has already eaten; he hadn’t, “Can ya get me a plate of slop too. Feelin’ kinda grumbly this morning.” “Whoo-boy, I’ma gonna get a tip, from ol’ Scrooge McRick,,,” she sing-songs over her shoulder as she heads towards the window to the kitchen. I can see white capped Charlie through the gap, Large and burly former Navy-man type from the look of his shoulders and crewcut exposed under the cap. Probably a ‘cookie’ on the boats when he was in. I glance at the mirror near the window, using it to glance outside the building. Oh-shit! It looks like the mid 1930’s out on that street. All the men are wearing hats and ties, the women all wear calf length pleated skirts and jackets with ‘proper hat’ and sensible heels: maybe 2 inches but not stilettoes . There is even a horse drawn ice-cart making its rounds. Maggie returns with the promised paper and I thank her. Note the date at the upper corner, May 12th 1988, then lay it out on the counter front page up, I don’t really need to read it, so much as see what the general layout of this world-line is. Apparently the King of Germany is having issues with an English Pope in London. At least I won’t be dealing with Nazi’s again. I hope,,, This track is at least 5 deviations from my main line, as best I can tell from the headlines. I keep scanning the them, hoping my ‘pilot’ will highlight one, indicating what my job is here. All world-lines converge to some extent: I am not an anomaly in line drifting, I am a controlled drifter. Controlled drifters have a pilot that rides ‘shotgun’ and directs us through ‘nudges’ and ‘highlights’. I have never met my pilot, but I understand their form is so strange to our own, the disconnect of not knowing who or ‘what’ is guiding me is a comfort. Unfortunately, there are uncontrolled drifters out there that muck up other lines. Us controlled drifters are the hunter killers of those rogues, but we are also the janitors to clean up the messes they create. Sometimes we are the reapers that kill world lines too far gone. “Here’s breakfast Rick,” Maggie says, putting the plate on top of the paper I’m scanning. “You need to eat and not worry about that malarky. Ain’t nuthin’ new under the sun.” “Truer words were never spoken, Maggie” I reply back, looking down at two eggs sunny side up and a side of baked beans and haggis. Gonna be a long slog through this world line. I get the impression from the haggis, that they have never seen biscuits and gravy or bacon. Michelle slips my bill under the coffee mug, face down. I move the plate and continue scanning the paper as I eat. This version of me doesn’t seem to mind the ‘odd to me’ tastes of haggis and baked beans for breakfast, so I isolate that part of my mind away from my mission side and carry on. After a lifetime of drifting the world lines, its easy to do. Finally, after I had finished the plate of ‘slop’, and into my third ‘cuppajoe’, one headline ‘illuminates’ for me.
“Senator Gregory promotes Federal Reserve Bill” I reach for the bill for my breakfast and look at the costs: A full breakfast and three coffees, eight cents, no tax, and no line for such. I reach into my pocket for change, and see all silver coins. No paper of any sort. I lay a quarter down on top of the bill, grab my coat ( I hope) from the rack near the door, wave goodbye to the staff and head to the street. The smells of unregulated carburetors and horse assails my sinuses. The tallest building I see is maybe 10 stories. Uptown Chicago, and nothing taller than 100’ and everything is brick construction. Maybe this world line is a bit more than 5 deviations from mine. I reach back into my pocket and check my change: Yup, a $20 gold eagle and a bunch of silver cartwheels; so The U.S. is an actual country with ‘real money’ here, and since there are Senators, I am assuming that this version is a solid Constitutional Republic, not the Democratic nightmare that my world line had devolved into. Maybe this is the ‘anchor’ line that keeps my regular world line from deteriorating into full blown world communism. Other than baked beans and haggis as breakfast items, I could learn to like it here.
I’d better hold that thought, there are likely some nasty surprises in store for me: after all, Germany has a King and the center of the Catholic Faith is now located in London, not Rome. I would love to see a history book and how that little shift came to be. I’m getting nothing from this version of me’s memories. Probably King Henry the Lionhearted and all of his divorces had something to do with that shift.
First stop, a library, to catch up on world details I am lack in this version of me. Second stop, Senator Gregory’s offices or home. I need to be close to feel if this Senator is a Drifter, and it doesn’t matter if he is controlled or rogue; my mission is to stop him from getting that bill enacted.

(Adjusted in HTML and I am rusty at coding,,, pardon the gaffs)