(SHORT STORY) I was leaving Atlanta for home one morning and I stopped off for some breakfast. This scene actually played out right next to me at the high counter, and moved me to spin it into a story. As soon as I got home I typed up some notes and some time later I spun it into this short work. To me, it says something about character that I can't quite put into words. For me, communicating a message that "can't quite be put into words" by using images instead is exactly what stories are. Enjoy.