Today I move. I’ve gotten my wagon hitched and I’m just waiting for a thunderstorm to pass. I am eating breakfast at a restaurant I’ve ate at all of my life; and for all my life I have ordered the same thing. Two eggs, grits, toast, and coffee with a water.
This place is two broken chairs away from being classified as ‘hole in the wall.’ Only a couple people will eat here with me; and most of the town tells horror stories about rats & roaches, but for all these years, the most horrible creature was a pestering human. I’m sure these stories spur from the racism in this town. This is the only African-American owned business I am aware of in the city limits. Besides the food, I like this place because I feel isolated from the rest of town. No politicians, no town-folk, and no people I skillfully avoid. Only a select few elders, and they are a regular peaceful crowd.
So when I leave this damned town for any extended period of time. I unofficially make it my duty to eat here and ponder about my next move.
New tumblar! Let’s hope I will be committed to this one!