(no subject)
I had a little bit of writer's block tonight, so i appologize for the random jumping around, but here..
1.
No, this man should not be trusted. Nevertheless, Miss Cat pulls out her pen and paper to take the man's order. She writes down what she is told. A cheeseburger loaded with everything on it with a side of french fries, to be washed down with a glass of tap water. She can't help but to find it strange that such an extravagant man would ask for the simplest and most unquestionably normal meal on the menu. However, she does not have the time to think - nor do the rest of them for that matter. If they only knew what was headed their way - and it is not merely because of the fact that every table in the Diner is, by some odd chance, taken this night, she has felt a strange weight over her from the moment she put her car in drive and rolled towards work. "Your just worried about the storm." she kept telling herself. They all were. The local meteorologist has predicted it to be the worst the town has ever seen in its entire existence. But even with the excuse of the storm, she knew something was just not right. She could feel it in her bones. It was as if something or someone was missing. Her ever-nagging unconcious mind kept telling her "HEY! Why are you forgetting this? This forgotten thing could very well make up your life, your very existence! And you have forgotten it?! What's worse, it seems that you were not even planning on recalling it?!" Of course, her naive and hypocritical unconcious mind does not know that it can not be heard. And if it thought it could, why has it not yet let in on what exactly was missing to her concious mind? She just could not place her finger on it in the short, five minute drive to work, and when she entered the Diner, she became quickly overwhelmed with the extraordinarilly large amount of customers that had by chance all resolved to eat dinner at the restaurant that night. She places the menacing man's order on the counter for Jack to cook up. Jack is one of the quiet type of people, who always seem to have an unusually high work ethic. He says not a word to Miss Cat or the Boss, who briefly visits the Diner for inspection at the max once a month. But Jack has never had a complaint in his entire employment as cook for the past five years. He is the large sort of man. Not that of muscle, but of fat. He wears his greatly receeding hair combed over towards the right, which is undermined by the small stubble of beard. This is not the sort of beard that the crazed old man wears, whose is much longer and wild, branching out at random places as if bits of it had been torn in a spastic fit. Jack simply did not have a regular shaving schedule, but he shaved when he felt like it. This meant that no full beard had ever been able to grow in, but there was still the undeniable existence of hair scattered about his pudgy face. Don't get me wrong though. Jack is not an obese man, he simply understands the everlasting cliche, that no one could ever trust a skinny cook, and so he has grown larger to fit the role of a reliable producer of cullinary delight. The clock on the wall behind Jack now reads 8:00 PM, and as soon as the second hand completes it's 360 degree revolution, making it 8:01 PM, the Diner is assaulted with the first rain of the storm. Miss Cat looks out the window only to find that she can no longer see out of it. It is raining buckets outside, and the Boss had not yet taken it upon himself to hire someone to fix the gutter system. Thus, the view to the outside world is heavily blurred by the ceaseless waterfalls down the windows. It is not only the water, but the sheer darkness of the night, that is marring her view. Such a darkness that would easily be enough to blind a man, and keep him blind. For there is no way that he could possibly be able to comprehend a light which could bring him out of a darkness such as this. Thank the heavens that the power has not yet gone out, by some magnificent Grace that is allowing light inside the Diner for some unknown, but unquestioned reason. She turns her gaze back from the window, and sees that the effect of the first dose of coffee has worn off of the Old Man in the corner with the beard, for he has returned to his spastic search for who knows what. However, this search is no longer confined to the table before him, but has spanned the entire breadth of the Diner, containing undoubtably recurring glances towards the Shady character across the way in the other corner of the room, who is now taking turns studying Miss Cat and the Old Man both. Every three or so jumps of the Old Man's eye would land on the Shady fellow, and Miss Cat thought she noticed some sort of r... *BOOM* A great roar from heaven has just shaken the panes of every window to what seems to be extremely close to the breaking point. The very ground beneath her feet shook and she lost balance for a moment, and simultaneously the lights flickered overhead. In this brief disoriented state, if the other people in the Diner had been less focused on eachother and had chanced to look towards the ceiling, they might have noticed the astonishing site that had passed through Miss Cat's line of view. A man. No, two men. Dressed in w... But as fast as the lightning strikes outside of the diner, the image is gone, her balance has returned, and the lights inside the Diner are back to their steady pale glow.
1.
No, this man should not be trusted. Nevertheless, Miss Cat pulls out her pen and paper to take the man's order. She writes down what she is told. A cheeseburger loaded with everything on it with a side of french fries, to be washed down with a glass of tap water. She can't help but to find it strange that such an extravagant man would ask for the simplest and most unquestionably normal meal on the menu. However, she does not have the time to think - nor do the rest of them for that matter. If they only knew what was headed their way - and it is not merely because of the fact that every table in the Diner is, by some odd chance, taken this night, she has felt a strange weight over her from the moment she put her car in drive and rolled towards work. "Your just worried about the storm." she kept telling herself. They all were. The local meteorologist has predicted it to be the worst the town has ever seen in its entire existence. But even with the excuse of the storm, she knew something was just not right. She could feel it in her bones. It was as if something or someone was missing. Her ever-nagging unconcious mind kept telling her "HEY! Why are you forgetting this? This forgotten thing could very well make up your life, your very existence! And you have forgotten it?! What's worse, it seems that you were not even planning on recalling it?!" Of course, her naive and hypocritical unconcious mind does not know that it can not be heard. And if it thought it could, why has it not yet let in on what exactly was missing to her concious mind? She just could not place her finger on it in the short, five minute drive to work, and when she entered the Diner, she became quickly overwhelmed with the extraordinarilly large amount of customers that had by chance all resolved to eat dinner at the restaurant that night. She places the menacing man's order on the counter for Jack to cook up. Jack is one of the quiet type of people, who always seem to have an unusually high work ethic. He says not a word to Miss Cat or the Boss, who briefly visits the Diner for inspection at the max once a month. But Jack has never had a complaint in his entire employment as cook for the past five years. He is the large sort of man. Not that of muscle, but of fat. He wears his greatly receeding hair combed over towards the right, which is undermined by the small stubble of beard. This is not the sort of beard that the crazed old man wears, whose is much longer and wild, branching out at random places as if bits of it had been torn in a spastic fit. Jack simply did not have a regular shaving schedule, but he shaved when he felt like it. This meant that no full beard had ever been able to grow in, but there was still the undeniable existence of hair scattered about his pudgy face. Don't get me wrong though. Jack is not an obese man, he simply understands the everlasting cliche, that no one could ever trust a skinny cook, and so he has grown larger to fit the role of a reliable producer of cullinary delight. The clock on the wall behind Jack now reads 8:00 PM, and as soon as the second hand completes it's 360 degree revolution, making it 8:01 PM, the Diner is assaulted with the first rain of the storm. Miss Cat looks out the window only to find that she can no longer see out of it. It is raining buckets outside, and the Boss had not yet taken it upon himself to hire someone to fix the gutter system. Thus, the view to the outside world is heavily blurred by the ceaseless waterfalls down the windows. It is not only the water, but the sheer darkness of the night, that is marring her view. Such a darkness that would easily be enough to blind a man, and keep him blind. For there is no way that he could possibly be able to comprehend a light which could bring him out of a darkness such as this. Thank the heavens that the power has not yet gone out, by some magnificent Grace that is allowing light inside the Diner for some unknown, but unquestioned reason. She turns her gaze back from the window, and sees that the effect of the first dose of coffee has worn off of the Old Man in the corner with the beard, for he has returned to his spastic search for who knows what. However, this search is no longer confined to the table before him, but has spanned the entire breadth of the Diner, containing undoubtably recurring glances towards the Shady character across the way in the other corner of the room, who is now taking turns studying Miss Cat and the Old Man both. Every three or so jumps of the Old Man's eye would land on the Shady fellow, and Miss Cat thought she noticed some sort of r... *BOOM* A great roar from heaven has just shaken the panes of every window to what seems to be extremely close to the breaking point. The very ground beneath her feet shook and she lost balance for a moment, and simultaneously the lights flickered overhead. In this brief disoriented state, if the other people in the Diner had been less focused on eachother and had chanced to look towards the ceiling, they might have noticed the astonishing site that had passed through Miss Cat's line of view. A man. No, two men. Dressed in w... But as fast as the lightning strikes outside of the diner, the image is gone, her balance has returned, and the lights inside the Diner are back to their steady pale glow.