It is almost 11:00pm, when the diner closes for the day.Like clockwork.For the past two years, every single Friday night has ended exactly the same way; me closing the diner at that time, so today is no different. At this point, my brain recognizes all the signs that signifies closing: how the lock sounds, like a knuckle cracking, and even the flickering of the neon lights twice before going off. And of course, my body remembers the feeling of the cold hitting me sharply, once I step outside, like a reluctant welcome back into the night.Except tonight, it is colder than usual. I pull my coat tighter and start walking. My car is in the shop again for the third time this month so my options are the bus or my feet, and since I already missed the lady bus at 10:55pm, no thanks to the till being kept in cash, meaning I had to count it by hand because Uncle Pete did not trust the counting machine. So, my feet, it is.I am so tired that the long route home seems like punishment, so I d
Zuletzt aktualisiert : 2026-03-12 Mehr lesen