A Sluggish Lunch

Shuffled out into the mild midday air because staying by those damp floorboards was starting to rot my brain. Took a slow stroll down the pavement, dodging tourists, until I spotted an unassuming diner tucked off the main road. Plumped myself down in a worn vinyl corner booth. The tabletop had a sticky ring from somebody's earlier brew. I propped my takeout bag beside a bottle of brown sauce and poked a dull metal fork into a plate of lukewarm chips. Salt shaken on thick, steam barely rising. Perfect. I took my sweet bloody time chewing.