The diner itself dated from the mid-fifties or sixties and had not seen many upgrades since then. Looking in from the sidewalk, through the foggy windows with the specials of the day written in washable paint, it looked like an everyday business that was doing a steady trade.
WA R COUNCIL by Craig Ruhl War Council is a work of fiction created by Craig Ruhl. In this issue, we share with our readers the prologue to this series. In future issues, we will bring you a new chapter in the continuing story. Craig’s bio appears at www.faithoneverycorner.com/ meet-our-contributors.html War Council is copyrighted by Craig Ruhl 2020, all rights reserved.
I pushed open the outer metal door and then through the inner wood door, passing through what served as a transition zone–in the winter to keep the warmth in and during the summer to keep the heat out. I walked in and took a stool at the far end of the counter, closest to the restrooms and payphones. Seated at the counter, and facing the kitchen with the food pass-through and shelf, I could watch as the cook moved back and forth over his grill and griddle. This seating position is not optimal for several reasons. You cannot see what is happening behind you or the people coming in the door. Besides the long counter and stools, there were several booths clad in faded red vinyl with a variety of off-color patches and repairs. Out of character for the room, a single large round table with seating for eight sat in the far corner from where I sat. There were also a few mismatched chairs along the wall behind the table. Sitting at the counter with a steaming cup of black coffee that appeared in front of me, I thought, what could be better on a bitter bone chilling winter day. I read through the single sheet, two-sided menu, all text and no pictures—pretty much standard grill and fry food offerings. The waitress reappeared with a pad and pencil to take my order. In deference to my paranoia of first meals in new eateries, I
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