Day 49: Morning - The Twin Pine Restaurant
[from here]
S.T. pushed open the door. The place was dead.
Bad metaphor. Quiet still hung over the restaurant as thickly as the rich smell of coffee and fry oil. Better.
A couple of chairs and a table looked like they'd been dragged out of storage; they were slightly darker than the others. And was that a faint hint of wood glue in the air? Huh. What the hell had happened here? Damage was only supposed to linger on the patient-prisoners, right? So why did the town look like it was still sleeping off last week's bender? He took one last deep sniff, and sat down at the counter. He extracted a menu from between the napkin holder and the sugar and started evaluating the merits of the various breakfast specials.
After a few false starts, he caught the eye of one of the staff across the room. He managed, through a complex series of semaphore-like gestures, to convey his need for caffeine molecules in an easily ingestible form. Then he went back to treating the menu like it was a road map to enlightenment. Instead of just something to keep hands and mind semi-productively occupied.
[for Scott Pilgrim]
S.T. pushed open the door. The place was dead.
Bad metaphor. Quiet still hung over the restaurant as thickly as the rich smell of coffee and fry oil. Better.
A couple of chairs and a table looked like they'd been dragged out of storage; they were slightly darker than the others. And was that a faint hint of wood glue in the air? Huh. What the hell had happened here? Damage was only supposed to linger on the patient-prisoners, right? So why did the town look like it was still sleeping off last week's bender? He took one last deep sniff, and sat down at the counter. He extracted a menu from between the napkin holder and the sugar and started evaluating the merits of the various breakfast specials.
After a few false starts, he caught the eye of one of the staff across the room. He managed, through a complex series of semaphore-like gestures, to convey his need for caffeine molecules in an easily ingestible form. Then he went back to treating the menu like it was a road map to enlightenment. Instead of just something to keep hands and mind semi-productively occupied.
[for Scott Pilgrim]