Everyone was busy pretending that this was all normal, that everything was as it should be.
They ignored the mountainous pulsating wall of damned souls that drifted past the windows, several dozen broken hands clutching desperately at the glass to try and gain their attention as thousands of mouths begged and cussed at them in equal measure. It would do them no good to be seen trying to help, not that anything could be done for the poor bastards at this point anyway.
They ignored the man in the corner whose breaths sounded like their grandmother's death rattle, the last sound you heard her make before the nurses shoved you away to wait in the uncaring sterile hallway to be given pitying glances by everyone who passed you by. The man in the corner reminded them all of their mortality as he sat by himself, staring into a cold cup of coffee that smelled like hospital bleach and decay.
They ignored the dead eyes of the waitress, the same one who'd been serving in the diner for over two hundred years. Her clothing may have changed, the diner's name and appearance may have changed but she was the same person shown in every anniversary photograph. All that varied over the years was the look in her eyes and the length of her teeth. Coincidentally more people went missing every year but it couldn't be sweet little Darlene, surely?
They ignored the mountainous pulsating wall of damned souls that drifted past the windows, several dozen broken hands clutching desperately at the glass to try and gain their attention as thousands of mouths begged and cussed at them in equal measure. It would do them no good to be seen trying to help, not that anything could be done for the poor bastards at this point anyway.
They ignored the man in the corner whose breaths sounded like their grandmother's death rattle, the last sound you heard her make before the nurses shoved you away to wait in the uncaring sterile hallway to be given pitying glances by everyone who passed you by. The man in the corner reminded them all of their mortality as he sat by himself, staring into a cold cup of coffee that smelled like hospital bleach and decay.
They ignored the dead eyes of the waitress, the same one who'd been serving in the diner for over two hundred years. Her clothing may have changed, the diner's name and appearance may have changed but she was the same person shown in every anniversary photograph. All that varied over the years was the look in her eyes and the length of her teeth. Coincidentally more people went missing every year but it couldn't be sweet little Darlene, surely?
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