“My Diner.”

Starting to look like my train station.

First time I’ve walked over there in 2 years.  What’s that rusting thing? A compressor? A pile of plywood to do work that never got done.

It’s hard to imagine that this tiny parcel of land was once visited by George Washington and his ilk. I don’t think anyone in this broken down town cares who slept there.

The last time I walked up and looked in was 2 years ago...

I didn’t feel like looking in there today. Back then, my art was still on exhibit up there. Except the diner was now closed for good and no one could see my images any more. But they had been on display for over a year. Longest art gig I ever had!

I don’t want to look in what’s left of my train station either.

Funny, it was closed and forgotten, but it looked like you could just sit down on a stool and place your order like always. You could almost hear the plates and mugs clanking; the conversation echoing around.

Talk about the cross section...

A waitress with a pet miniature pig named Wilbur.

A real estate lawyer who came in every day to have lunch and talk about things in his life; sometimes.

A woman taking care of her mother. She seemed to be looking for a man.

An architect who loved to visit diners.

A potty mouthed, racist blue collar guy who spewed foul language in there. I had to wonder what kind of family he came from.

Disabled and diminished people who wanted to find some place to sit and have a cup of coffee.

Teens who joked and laughed and ordered stacks of pancakes.

Young couples. Young couples with kids. Elderly couples.

Talk of the town. The locals and their gossip. Who did what to whom. Who cracked up his car last night. Who got arrested.

The crops, the livestock, the lunar eclipse.

The damn local politicians. SOS.

The junkies and druggies need something to eat. A pierced and tattooed young woman with little kids. Rings all over her lips. Military garb.

A beautiful blonde middle aged woman with her father.

And me.

It closed two years ago; for good. Everyone went away to wherever they came from.