"By the light bleeding from the windows, I found my way to the front door of the diner. 'Third night in a row', I think to myself as I push the door open, coat gracing the stale footprints in my wake. A wet trail leading to and from the counter tells me I'm not the first to arrive here, but the tinny sound of the old late-night radio told me I'd be the last for tonight. Making my way up to the counter, the lady gave me the same look as always; though I will never know what truly lies behind it. A returned stare and a quick nod told her everything she needed to know, and I set change on the counter as she turned to the machine. Medium cup, no milk, no sugar. Setting the folder down in the booth, I knew this would be a long night."