Sweet Stranger
I had been on the road for 10 hours straight. I was starving, and I needed to rest for a while. Route 87 in New York had been difficult, but only because I was so fucking tired. Nearing exit 19, signs indicated some restaurant options. I pulled off. I probably wouldn't have stopped at a place with a silo if I wasn't so desperate, but here I was, and I needed some rest and some food. Inside it was dark, but pleasant in a tourist kind of way. Seated at a small table near what I think was the...