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(start music)
𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒.
I have been stuck in this tiny, weird-smelling car for almost four hours. I was tired, cramped and extremely hungry.
In the midst of packing, I never figured that I would get hungry so I didn't pack anything. Stupid, I know. As I drove down the streets of Boston, the sun streaming past the small, cozy houses, I knew that I needed to stop soon. It was almost 10 am, so something had to be open on a Saturday morning.
Pulling into a small parking lot a few streets later, I turned off the car and ran my hands over my face, trying to wake myself up. As my hands fell to my side, I looked around the small area. Buildings, shops and houses were scattered around the plaza, while citizens talked to one another as they left a shop.
I got out of the car, wallet and phone in my back pocket, and locked the doors so -hopefully- nobody could break in, again. I made my way to one building that seemed to be awake with the rest of Boston. 'Nova's Diner' was a small restaurant that was filled with bright colours and even brighter smiles, from the looks of it.
At the moment, it was filled with families, lone men who were in for a quick bite, or teenagers who planned an early breakfast out. I pulled the door open as a soft bell chimed my arrival.
The diner was big and filled with pastel pinks, blues and the occasional red. It seemed as if it was from the 1950s with the music, clothing, and the feel of it. I walked towards the counter as the diner filled with its small chatter and calls of food orders that were ready to go.
"What can I do for you, doll?" A lady asked as I stopped at the counter. The lady was young, maybe in her early thirties, with long brown hair that was tied into a loose bun, and blue eyes that matched her baby blue uniform.
"Um..." I stuttered.
"Would you like a table? Or do you want to sit at the counter?" She chuckled with a smile as she tucked her pen behind her ear.
"Counter, I think that would be easiest," I told her, returning a smile.
"I'll grab you a menu then," She told me while she turned around and reached into a small shelf. When she finally turned around, I could see her name tag; Nova. "Here you go," Nova said as she placed the menu in front of me.
"Is this your diner?" I asked her as I flipped the plastic menu open, my fingers running down the fabric edges.
"Yes, she is," Nova replied as she tucked her notepad in the pocket of her apron. "Started her a few years ago,"
"Well, she's very pretty," I complimented with a small chuckle.
"Thank you. Now, what can I get you to drink?" She asked as a family headed out of the diner.
