The early afternoon is a forgotten hour, Harry thinks. Never careful, invariably he loses the days to tedium. Such is the 2nd shift at Waffle House. It is never enough to be busy, but just enough to keep Harry on his feet. He reads as he stands, watching the clock tick at intervals with a book pressed down on the cash register. With a fragmented attention span, the words go through his consciousness several times over. He is Sisyphus of Paragraphs, and progress is slow. His latest is Notes From the Underground, and he gets almost nothing out of it.
At 3 PM, Brian arrives in a low rent sedan. He works at the Publix down the street and talks more than Harry cares for. He lives for money, but never makes enough of it. To him, life is about things. His new car, a collection of baseball cards, a woman he met at work. They are all things to him, and money is the way to get them. He doesn’t have many friends.
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