He had three different types of sausage rolls for breakfast, two eggs, and a slice of toast. I enjoyed a fruit cup and yogurt across from him, trying to stay healthy. The place had wall-to-wall customers inside. Hardcore diners cramped into the popular spot, shoulder to shoulder and uncomfortable. Their place had very little space inside, but they still craved its food.
Oatmeal, freshly baked wheat bread, and strawberry French toast aromas eddied about the diner’s interior. Because of heavy chatter, Zeb and I could barely talk to each other. Rather, we were forced to yell, leaning across the table when conversing.
Following the meal, outside and on the sidewalk, Zeb said, “That was the worst idea I had.”
“Not really. The food was great.”
Like the dream from the night before, clouds sta
