.

I saw her

The same waitress who

I used to work with

And she's been here all this time

It's been years...

"Would you like some coffee?" She asks me.

She doesn't even recognize me.

I nod, because I would like some coffee.

She pours the muddy water and stares into my white diner mug, not meeting my sad eyes staring at her wrinkled face.

My eyes wander to the large wooden clock

hanging above the shiny chrome milkshake station

that clock

I used to sit in this very same teal and torn booth and stare at it

counting down the minutes until the sun rose when I could clock out

and start my morning with rotten sleep, smelling like pancakes and cigarettes.

I’d listen to the fucking screaming train pass by, just yards away.

that fucking train that they built in the middle of this

fucking town

I remember wishing that train would scream louder and

louder and

louder

until I could feel the age-old foundations of this dying diner start to give way and crumble on top of me, burying me forever in the town that loves to chew me up and spit me out.

“Just a couple more weeks…” I told myself, back in 2018. And then I’d have saved enough in tips to travel through Central America. I kept the coins in a jar by my bed, and as I watched it fill up, I felt more and more like a prisoner nearing their day of freedom. I’ve filled many a coin jar, always trying to escape this place, to find purpose elsewhere. I sensed the hatred I felt for this town was reciprocated towards me, that this place didn’t really want me either. I never wanted to come back… I never do. Things just happen, and somehow I always find myself stuck here again.

Once more, this ghost-like feeling of un-belonging is becoming more and more unbearable each day. Tell me, where do I go from here?