Midnight in a Diner
“Grasping his last cigarette with nicotine-stained fingers, the tips dyed a sickly yellow from years of use, the aging manager lifted the white cylinder to his lips. His break was coming to a close as the hands of his watch slowly inched towards the half hour.
Underneath the fluorescent light of the break room, every bump, scratch, and pockmark on his skin was illuminated by the sterile screeching of the light. Shaking his last couple of deathsticks back into the carton, the manager slipped it inside his uniform and went to man the open register out front.
The lobby was empty.” Continue reading…