Two men sat in the restaurant, one near the front door, the other off to the side at a table. Both shifted nervously back and fourth. The man by the front door was holding his hands together, rubbing them back and forth as though either cold or nervous. The man at the table shifted back and forth in his chair, slumping down as though not to be seen.
No one knew where either man had come from, or where they were going. They didn’t appear to know each other, but it was hard to tell for sure. Each ordered pizza, each was dressed in black jeans and black coats. The man at the table had a beard, and looked as though he hadn’t showered or washed his clothes in days. The man at the door was clean shaven, and well groomed. Yet each appeared to be nervous about something. The cashier wondered just what exactly they were up to.
My A-muse-ing Life 