Surly and hung-over the waitress poured him a full cup of coffee and took the brute’s order. The man she served was oblivious to the fact that his waitress was a full cup of seething self hatred for her dead end life, men in general, and in particular the trucker she’d fucked in cab of his truck last night.
Winton could taste the suffocating presence of death coming from where they were across the diner. He saw the waitress’s prayers for self-destruction blinking in the madman’s face like a frenzied neon sign begging the brut to: KILL ME- KILL ME – KILL ME.
Winton could tell that she was clueless to the fact that she was praying for death at the altar of the murderously insane.
Winton could taste the suffocating presence of death coming from where they were across the diner. He saw the waitress’s prayers for self-destruction blinking in the madman’s face like a frenzied neon sign begging the brut to: KILL ME- KILL ME – KILL ME.
Winton could tell that she was clueless to the fact that she was praying for death at the altar of the murderously insane.
