The Guy from the Diner

Max's house seemed in order. As in order a guy like him could be. There were deck chairs in the yard, and cooler near the front door, four beers sitting there a bit warm now. His car was in the driveway. Maxxx the license plate read. She knocked a few times lightly. The house didn't make a sound. Usually the wood would buckle if someone was there or getting up. What if he was dead she thought briefly. No no. The normal partly cloudy day was dreary with overcast. It was still bright so she she was squinting. She rang the bell this time. Waiting, no sound again, I mean maybe he's at his parents. Where'd they live again. She stepped around the porch, the wood creaking she looked into a window a little. No putting her hand on the surface, didn't want to look suspicious. No one really drove past. This time she rang the bell a few times, and knocked with her fist. Max she yelled you in there. She started to get worried looking at the other windows. the blinds were drawn. Maybe around back she thought. She didn't really want to go back there. She needed some backup but who could she trust? The guy from the diner?