This vignette was originally posted as an entry on 52stories.net. If you’re a writer looking for something to get you out of a creative rut, pay them a visit!
The morning was cool and agreeable as a small lizard poked his head from behind the chalkboard menu. “SERVING HOMEMADE MENUDO DAILY,” stood in blocky script at the top, but everything else had been wiped away the night before. The lizard, scanning with jerky eyeballs, was more interested in the crickets to be found underneath the prep table than the special of the day. It stopped and eyed the large man eating at the counter before scuttling behind a translucent jar of pickled vegetables in search of its own breakfast.
The cafe was otherwise deserted. Joe hunched over his huevos rancheros and shoveled mechanically, stopping occasionally for brief gulps of black coffee. He sat with elbows bracing his solid frame, his stubbled countenance reflecting dully in the brown Formica countertop. The stool beneath him looked overmatched.
