Philip Mainlander - 2021

Philip slid off his stool. His feet made no sound. He approached the booth, heart—metaphorically—pounding.

The problem was, no one ever saw him. Not the waitress, Della, who refilled his untouched cup every morning. Not the cook, Big Sal, who sometimes slid a cold plate of eggs in his direction out of pity for “the regular who never eats.” Not even the stray tabby cat that napped by the radiator, though it did twitch an ear his way now and then. philip mainlander

Wren shrugged, and for the first time, her sharp eyes softened. “It’s the only kind that ever worked on me.” Philip slid off his stool