A Spot by the Curb

I slipped through the bottom edge of the screen door and took a steady walk down the sidewalk to the corner diner's outdoor patio. An empty low table sat right by the curb where the warm draft from the kitchen fan smelled of fried onions. In the center was a heavy, brushed-metal napkin dispenser. I stepped up close, rested one hand flat against the cool steel flank, and checked my own reflection in the dull chrome. Right beside it was a laminated menu card showing a tall double burger. I gave the salt shaker base a firm nudge with my boot, took a slow breather, and settled into the scene.