Holden sat at the counter in the diner. It was late. They were closing up soon. He ordered a grilled cheese and tall glass of milk. No fries. It wasn't that he didn't have the money. He didn't want them.
He probably should have ordered a coffee. But he didn't always feel like coffee. He was sick of the fucking phonies always ordering coffee. All the time. Like it meant something. It didn't mean anything.
His throat tightened and eyes pricked with tears thinking of all the kids that would grow up thinking they needed to order coffee. Fuck coffee!