Karl W Mason

The Stranger

He sat in the diner, people watching. It's what he liked doing the most. The grin of the old guy in the booth by himself waiting, as he did every day, for the waitress to offer to top up his coffee. The young couple with the infant in the pram, each taking their turn to hastily inhale a pastry or a mouthful of coffee before their child wakes up demanding attention. He watches as the waitress carefully peeks into the pram and whispers something to the couple who both smile and thank her for no doubt a kind word, unsolicited and heartfelt. He liked her. She seemed genuine. The bell rings for another order to be brought to another customer and she scuttles off to fetch the next meal for the seemingly endless needy customers. Today was different, it was mid-week and there seemed to be fewer people in the diner, the same pattern seemed to echo across all the diners he'd sat in.