Tuesday, The 18th
Morning
THE WIND WOULD OCCASIONALLY GUST HARD, HEADED SOUTH, and her hair would whip around, forcing her to close her eyes so she didn’t get any inside. He would just hunker down closer to her to keep as much of the wind off her as possible, closing his own eyes to avoid her rouge hair as well. The parking lot of the roadside diner was mostly empty, being so early on a weekday, and Scott had just been thankful that they had been open from which to grab a nice, American breakfast. They both had had their fill and extra from the quiet people working inside. He surmised that they must have been the owning couple, probably working the entire restaurant themselves at slow hours like this one. Scott looked out over the rolling plains; a sight mostly unfamiliar to him. So muc
