Solitude

Three people. Two worlds. One destiny.
And that is to stop both worlds from colliding, entwining to a nightmarish morph of death and chaos. How will it all play out in a fateful town?
And with a mysterious entity following them, helping them, guiding them...
In the end, it all comes down to
Solitude

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6. five

Jonathan Sharp served the double strawberry milkshake to the on-duty cop to accompany his glazed doughnut, then cast a glance nonchalantly to the man at the furthest booth, tucked near the toilets. His head was shrouded in a gray hoodie, and his hands was full with a newspaper that seemed to have an infinite number of words on that page.

"Hey, you gonna keep wiping the counter or you gonna serve me? Burgers and fries, sides of onion rings and bacon. A coke. Make it snappy." This came from a woman who obviously had more than enough of deep fried food. Despite his distaste, Sharp dropped his cloth he had subconsciously picked up and headed to the rear of the area behind the counter, where there was a slot, behind which was the kitchen with the sweaty chefs.

"Hey, Mike," Sharp called, half-squatting and tilting his head so he could see in. He repeated the order to the portly man who had tasted a lot of his devilishly tempting creations. There was a ding and an attractive looking woman came through the door, appearing lost for a moment, as if the first time in a diner. Her eyes locked on hoodie newspaper guy, and she walked determinedly over.

The hell was such a chick doing with a sleazeball? Sharp looked from the slacking cop, to the fat lady who was smoking Marlboros despite the sign warning against, to the two at the booth. There was a clack as Mike served up the grease.

Sharp tottered off to the toilet.

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