There was a sudden shift in music as Daisy adjusted the radio, tuning it to a station now playing a quiet and somewhat tender love song. The change settled slowly over the diner. A burst of laughter came from the bar, where a young couple sat chatting over a shared cigarette. Beside them stood a man in a black coat, sipping from a glass of dark beer while holding a magazine.

  Chris recognized him immediately as one of the passengers. The thought made him turn and look beyond the steamed window. Outside, the bus stood still, its engine off. The rain continued to fall steadily, collecting in rivulets that fed into the gutters.

  He leaned back, sitting stiffly in his seat. Before him, the familiar journal lay open on the table. He reached for it cautiously and pulled it closer. The entries remained exactly as they had been. One, in particular, caught his eye.

  “Harley?” he murmured.

  The name brought nothing to mind, yet a faint tingling began to spread across his cheek. Without thinking, he raised a hand to touch it. The feeling was familiar, though he couldn’t place why.

  “Would you like to hear about our specials?”

  Startled, Chris shut the journal and looked up. The sudden voice dispersed his thoughts, as though pulling him from a troubling dream. It belonged to a tidy waitress now standing beside his booth. She was in her early twenties, a bit round-faced, with a kind smile.

  “Just regular coffee would be fine,” he said, trying to steady himself. “And, uh, could you put it in one of those cups to go? I’ll take it for the road.”

  She nodded and jotted it down, the glow of the overhead light catching her face. It was then he noticed how striking she looked. There was a quiet beauty about her that seemed to blend effortlessly with the diner. Her name tag read “Kaylie” but somehow it didn’t feel quite right, like the name belonged to someone else entirely.

  “Do you want it in regular size,” she asked, “or for a little extra, you can get a large one instead? Refills are free, so you can top it off before you head out. It’s a better deal.”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Chris sat there quietly and barely registered her words. A strange feeling of familiarity washed over him, making him shift uncomfortably in his seat. He glanced around the room as though searching for the source of the sensation, but nothing stood out. Then, his attention was drawn to the glossy object hanging on the wall. Its hands were frozen, and something about the stillness felt unsettling. He blinked, realizing the silence had stretched too long. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “Yes, that would be great. Thanks.”

  The waitress, Kaylie, scribbled something in her notepad. “Alright,” she said at last. “That’ll be a dollar forty.”

  The young man sighed deeply, asking her to hold on for a moment. Throughout the entire conversation, his backpack remained hidden at his side, tucked tightly under the table. It was large, with an array of pockets that made finding anything a task in itself. He pulled out two crumpled dollar bills and handed them to her. “Here, you can keep the rest,” he said, then added with a small nod, “I know it’s not much, but…” He trailed off with a shrug.

  Kaylie gave him a quick, appreciative smile and tucked the bills into her apron pocket. “Thanks,” she said warmly. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

  “Actually, there’s this one thing.” He gestured toward the far wall, where the bartenders worked diligently. High above the shelves hung a wooden timepiece, its surface polished enough for Chris to see his faint reflection. “That clock over there,” he said, “I noticed it hasn’t moved in a while, but now, when I look at it more closely, I see it has this strange oval shape instead of round. Is it supposed to be like that?”

  She looked over her shoulder and soon caught sight of the timepiece. “Oh, that?” she said with a laugh. “Yeah, it’s been like that for years. Honestly, I don’t even notice it anymore. Daisy keeps it up because she says it reminds her of someone, though I can’t remember why.” She tapped her pen lightly on the pad, then turned back to Chris. “Anyway, if you change your mind about anything, just wave me over.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, flipping his journal back open. “Thanks again, Kaylie, you’ve been a great help.” He gave her a momentary glance, not realizing he had slipped her name into the sentence. Leaning forward, he began sketching in his notebook, the pen gliding slowly across the page.

  The young waitress lingered for a moment, a warm smile crossing her face as she slid her pen into the apron pocket. “I’ll go get you that coffee,” she said, then turned toward the counter, revealing the figure of a man seated at a small table nearby. Chris, however, didn’t notice him right away. The lines in his drawing continued to take shape until the sound of the rain tapping against the window caught his attention. It had grown stronger, he thought.