Black, Two Sugars

He finished his second cup of coffee, and stared at the diner’s door. Still closed, no one approaching from outside. He pressed his forehead against the window and saw the half-lit strip of parking lot was still empty, except for his car.

The waitress came by and filled his cup again, while he wasn’t looking.

He pushed it away. A third cup would keep him up all night. What he should do, he told himself, is stand up and walk out. The other party was now forty minutes late and he couldn’t be expected to wait here all damn night.

 

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