A diner.
I’m alone.
I look around, scanning the room.
A young guy is sitting alone.
He’s between 18-22 Years Old.
Thin, oily face, long hair. Almost like Axl Rose from the ’80s but without the headband and hat.
A tough-looking guy.
He’s leaning on the table with his arms crossed.
He looks over his left shoulder and scans the room.
He looks over his right shoulder and scans the room.
This guy doesn’t trust the world, and it shows.
I can tell that he’s had a hard life.
He looks back down at the table.
The waitress brings his plate to him.
Eggs, Bacon, Hashbrowns, and Toast. Coffee to drink.
I notice he has a tattoo on his right arm.
It says, “Mom.” And under that, it has her Birth Date and… Death Date…
And I know that he’s not a kid.
He grew up years ago.
