Cole

"How's your coffee," asks the waitress.

My mug is full. I haven't taken a sip of the no longer steaming liquid. I picked an out of the way spot, a diner empty except for a old man at the counter picking at toast and reading the newspaper.

"Fine," I say, my body tensing as the door opens.

The waitress takes a look at my full cup, pauses, and walks away without a word. Walrus pauses in the open doorway, evaluating the diner before stepping in.

His face looks a little gaunter, but his mustache is still his pride and joy. We lock eyes and he walks to my private...