Middle of Nowhere

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Outside a bus rolls down the road, flocks of birds gather in the vacant parking lot, while inside I watch the line cook dance in the kitchen to the sound of the crackling jukebox. I'm sitting in a booth wondering why I chose here to depart the bus. I could have gone further on to where the sun goes down over Santa Monica but, instead, I'm here in the middle of nowhere waiting for nothing to happen again. Nothing is all I have and nothing is all that I have to look forward to.


Rain comes down, dark sky all around this tiny diner, thunder shakes the silverware as the night nears and the day begins its exit. 


I'm alone, only my thoughts to occupy my time, my food eaten, I watch the last of the storm not sure how many days I'll remain in this place. 

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