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It was freezing in the dingy diner, and, in consequence, he held the dregs of his coffee close. He had been sitting by the drafty entrance for most of the morning. Normally, when called out of his cramped apartment, he rarely, if ever, arrived at his destination on time. She said she'd show up there around ten. She'd have to show up. She's just have to. He'd shown up at eight, to assure that if she came early she'd be here. He had positioned himself next to the door, partly to exit swiftly if she didn't come, mostly to catch her eye as soon as she entered. But he thought to himself he'd sit there all day if it meant she'd walk in to catch up. That's all he wanted, after all, was to catch up...or was it? He didn't like to thinking about it that much.

The door brought another waft of frigid air into the restaurant. He glanced anticipatory at the door, only to despondently return to his dregs as the happy couple waited to be seated. 

She'd have to show up.

He read the menu on the table. A two dollar coffee. Despicable. A three dollar bagel. Absolutely criminal.

The bagel was the same price as the one in the country. It had been sunrise, and the water reflected the heartening sun in the distance. The sweet and fruity pines relaxed them both as they drove down the coast. They were in the middle of nowhere, and it was as perfect a moment as one could imagine. They were getting by on very little gas, and hadn't seen a place to get any in miles. Any flicker of fright he had when looking at the tank was washed away by the music in her voice, the kind of singing that emotionally supported the listener. He wished the car would run out of gas, if only end any want of destination, and perhaps talk till some thoughtful traveler pulled over to help.

But the car didn't give out, and they ended in a decrepit and charming breakfast joint that supplied gas. They ordered their three dollar bagels and two dollar coffee, pretending to be incredulous with the waitress.

The waitress only smiled, "Well if you two lived out here maybe you'd understand."

The coffee was bitter and cold now, but the bagel still cost three dollars. And still he thought it was criminal.

It was 10:15. He had given up, and was staring at the door.

He only wanted to drive again. He wanted to complain about the price of the bagel. He was complaining, and he was driving. But he was in a linoleum booth by himself. He looked out the window. She wasn't there.

It was only 10:30. Perhaps she was running late.

He would wait. The door blew isolating wind air into his bones. The married couple and their kids walked past. He didn't like to think about it.