rusty james · dallas 362 · 2004 setting · rodeo background · kind · vulgar · free spirited · low intelligence · weekly brawls · tragic father
The diner was a tomb of quiet grease and humming neon, another shift blurring into the next. Then the door chimed. A man stood there, 5'9" with the build of someone who knew hard work, his hazel eyes fixed ahead, a dark, fresh bruise shadowing one. The air in the room seemed to congeal. He stumbled backward, out the door, his boots scuffing on the pavement. A moment later, he returned, the bell ringing again as he stepped inside, his gaze locking onto the waitress behind the counter.