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StuckBillys Diner was tucked away on the corner of Emery and Third. Normally establishments on corners stick out, much more than those lining the streets, but this diner literally felt as if was stashed away under its awning. Never was there a time of day in which light touched even the door handle; the tall building to the east kept the sun away in the morning, its faded maroon canopy shading from the heat of noon, and the even taller buildings to the west kept the dying rays anywhere near.
Billys is one of those cheap, local places that is so rarely found in decently sophisticated urban developments, a place that only survives by the few fortunate people who either always eat there or finally decide to go there after years of finding some excuse not to; a place where you can order food to go along with your grease. Alyssa had always eaten there; a birthday dinner or two had been mildly celebrated in the corner booth. There was a photo in an album somewhere, probably stained an
The KeyI tried to remember who had given me that key. What prompted me to think of it I did not know; it just slipped into my head when I walked past the hollow tree in the park yesterday afternoon. I didnt even realize I was thinking about it for the longest time.
The key, threaded on a chain of twine and hung delicately from a rough nail, barely swung against the wall. The sea breeze ebbs and flows out the crack of the sliding glass door making the space constantly bubbling and wet. I shifted my back on the couch, pulling the cushion out from underneath me and hugging it against my stomach. I mindlessly stared at the key like the night owl and late night TV. Curled up on the couch, the blanket barely draped over my legs and the remainder of the non-sensible cushions were scattered behind me and across the floor.
The breeze flushed inside, the key rocked back and forth, back and forth.
Its hypnotizing me, thats what its trying to do.
Rubbing my face, I perched myself
Hours of OperationThe mindless clicks of the computer mouse seemed to grow even more irritating, an incessant woodpecker working away during the sleeping hours of the morning. Even the motion of starting a new game became as repetitious as moving one card onto another. One game blended into the other, never had a game of solitaire been so mind numbingly endless.
The office around her, with its homey and quaint décor of pink potpourri filled pillows and excessive dollies, felt unnaturally still. Even the modern presence of the computer was unsuccessfully hidden underneath an elaborate crochet piece. Sitting just beyond the office door was an even more deserted sight of the shop itself. Its filled with baby cradles, teddy bears, rag dolls, and pastel wicker furniture- all of which is needlessly adorned with frill and lace in attempt to show some form of sweet affection. The shop seemed to have been frozen in a warm hue of the afternoon, left behind from the rapture.
There had been no customers
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More