Marc Love felt free in
Gas City
. I mean he was free in most places, but here he didn't feel like anyone knew who he was. He didn't hear the word blue ever. He thought that even if he painted his body and danced around, people wouldn't bother him. He liked that here. He liked the eggs, and he liked the sun.
It felt warmer, but not in a direct way it rose slowly, but he felt like it recharged him. Like he was a sunflower following it move through the arc in the sky. The diner let him take the cup outside when he smoked. He started smoking now, he never used to but recently it seemed like the only way breathe. He loved the first inhale and the long exhale. This is when he realized the sun here slowly warms you, its different than back home. There its too constant. Here you can almost watch the dew steam off the grass. He liked that.
He sipped his coffee, it was cold by now, but he didn't mind. It still was probably the best cup of coffee he's had in his life.