The taxi dropped me near the café. The name of the place was Lonely Café. Perhaps it was Paradise Lost or Lonely Paradise. Something to do with loneliness or paradise. I vaguely remember the name but the roaming smell of hamburger is still vivid in my mind. I am sure I was not drawn to that place for its crumbling facade and definitely not the name, if that was the case I would have remembered it better than the smell.

I walked towards the door. Few heads peered though the flickering neon sign. It was bright red but don’t remember what it said. I was certainly hoping this was a film noir and I was the detective. I was expecting that if I walk through that door I will see Madeline standing by the counter. Her red luscious lips and gorgeous black hair will stare at me like some dead sailor’s binoculars. But sadly it wasn’t any film. It was real. I remember taking another few steps. I surely recall the handwritten sign next to the door. Help wanted. I walked inside. It was my first job.

This story has no comments.