The Countdown

I sat in the only clean booth, in the corner near the restroom, and filled out a job application. The waitress waddled to my table with a slice of apple pie and a cappuccino. “I hope you’re not applying to work here,” she scoffed, and with a whisper added, “Terrible place.” I sipped at my coffee, the foam tickling my lips, and looked away from her.

Keep reading...
 •  0 comments  •  flag
Share on Twitter
Published on April 23, 2014 17:00 Tags: short-stories, writing
No comments have been added yet.