The soup was store bought; a can of tomato with a grilled cheese on rye. It was good and comforting to the fellow at the table; washed it down with a cup of coffee. He knew he had to be leaving soon.

Tell me a story, she said. A real story. One about your many travels, she sat next to him, stirred her soup.

I’m not much of a story teller, he said. But, all mine are true. I’ll guarantee you that.

Does it get lonely out there?, she looked up at him with those blue eyes. I mean, you ever wanna just settle down with a nice woman, go to church on Sundays, lie in bed till the sun comes up?, he laughed.

All my life I’ve been alone. Now, there’s women I’ve been with, but, not any longer than is needed. It’s a bank job; go in, get the money, get out.

That’s how you view women?

No, thats how I view relationships, he smiled, went over to the couch to put his boots on. When a woman gets me she knows what she’s getting. You knew what you were getting, he put on his shirt that was thrown in the corner. Right?, she nodded her head and touched her chest.

Yes, I suppose I did. Will you come back through here?

Most likely.

Here, she pulled a drawer out and got a pen and paper. Here’s my number. You can call me anytime you like. Say three in the morning. Anytime.

Might take you up on that, he kissed her. Gotta get going. You take care of yourself.

You too.

He walked out to his truck and started it. Waved goodbye and honked his horn.

She’s still waiting on that phone call.

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