A few minutes after breakfast; January 15, 2010; A Diner

By Eleutherophobia

“So I told my stories, and the piano kept making background noise and all that, and it seemed alright. But the whole time through I had this kind of a weird feeling like it was all secretly about to go wrong.” He dragged at a cigarette without grace, and matched his watch with a clock on the wall. “Look, I wish I knew more, but I only met the guy two or three times,” he took on a sudden blush, fumbling for his wallet. “It’s on me,” he left a twenty on the linoleum table between cups of coffee and cigarette butts stamped into remnants of pancakes. “Listen, if you hear of anybody lookin’ for help, you mention me. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she chirped, a forlorn smile stretched too thinly across her lips. A nod knocked some cheap aviators out of their perch in her rusty hair, skidding too far down her nose. “Yeah, I will.”

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A few minutes after breakfast; January 15, 2010; A Diner

Created: Jan 21, 2010

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