The kid, he couldn’t have been more than 23 or 24, sat on the hood of the cruiser, starring up at the sign.
The round sign tried to take on the look of a donut. In case you couldn’t tell, the word “donuts†was written in red neon across the middle of the sign. Above it was the name Joes and below, deliberately misspelled, was tastee.
He stared silently at his glass of beer, the look of an old man who’d made a decision.
His rough worn jeans and flannel shirt were out of place in the bar populated by what he’d invariably call “young ‘uns,†professionals in suits and ties.
“What are you doing here?â€
“Thinkin’,†he told me. “You?â€
E.C. Morgan’s short fiction has appeared in Mysterical-e and A Cruel World, and is forthcoming in Crime Spree Magazine. He has also published non-fiction in more than 75 magazines. His writing and mystery blog is http://ecmorgan.blogspot.com.