Three Green Notebooks Left in a Cedar Chest on Elm Street

full of the smell of burnt grease and cheap syrup, and the windows were thick with steam. Frank sat in the corner booth with a gray cardigan buttoned to his chin, his thick fingers tapping against a white ceramic saucer.

I sat down opposite him and laid a dollar and fifty cents on the laminate table for my coffee. Frank did not touch his cup, pointing continue reading …