Dzinski folded the newspaper and set it on the counter next to his empty coffee cup. He’s been waiting for a refill since page two of the sports section. The local team lost in a blowout the night before and the writers were calling for the coach’s head.
He looked down at the waitress leaning toward the man sitting four stools down, and seeing that he’d never get a third cup, he rose, shook some change loose from his pocket and left the diner.
Outside, the sky had that clear and fresh feeling you only get on early winter mornings.
A Bunch of Dumb Words in a Row 