I have been instructed to get out of the house every once in awhile, so every Thursday I head down to the diner on Third Street. It is within walking distance so I am able to be medicated when I go. They have decent coffee. The waitress knows my name.
"Heya, sweetie. Sit where you like and I'll getchya in a sec, kay?" Shirley flashes her teeth and buzzes away.
The booth in the corner looks nice. Without saying a word, Armand passes my table, leaving a cup of coffee in his wake. I warm my hands on the mug.
Suddenly, Shirley is back again, a stack of plates fanned down her arm. She has a grin from ear to ear and asks, "The usual?"
"Surely." I lift the corners of my mouth, and she giggles as she walks away.
The place is busy for a Thursday morning, but the low roar of the crowd is almost comforting as it makes it easy to hide. I feel safe in my booth, even in my weakened state. As I drink my coffee, I close my eyes. The drugs must be stimulating endorphins or something because every inch of my body feels wonderful, and I can't stop thinking about how amazing this coffee is.
I'm just not used to it yet, I tell myself. In time it will stop working like the rest. But for now, even that thought has beauty in it.
I hold the mug up a little longer so I can take in the scent of the brew. Lowering it, however, reveals another person at my booth. A little person.
"What're you starin' at?" he says. "Never seen a Dwarf before?"
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