MARIA POV
The wooden doors of the restaurant swing open, and I’m immediately hit with the smell of barbecue and fried food, mixed with the faint scent of sawdust from the wooden floors. It’s almost overwhelming but oddly comforting. The place looks like it’s stuck in a time warp—an old-fashioned country-style diner, complete with flannel-clad waitresses and wall decorations straight out of a Western movie. There’s something about the rustic charm that pulls me in, despite how out of place I feel.
The waitresses, all wearing checkered flannel shirts tucked into high-waisted jean shorts, walk around balancing trays piled high with burgers, ribs, and heaps of fries. There’s a low hum of country music playing in the background, and everything feels warm, cozy, and maybe just a little too muc
