Vignettes — #20
Moses, forty-five, dressed in neat, casual, dark slacks and a light-blue open shirt, walks through the café to the patio at the back. He stops at the table he usually sits at, the one in the corner, against the railing, overlooking the wooded creek below.
He feels put out. He has sat here every late afternoon for weeks, except on weekends. He looks around. There are…