The tiny town her uncle had insisted she visit was moving at a slow pace matching the sun’s movement across the sky. There were very few cars on the road. Abby noticed right away that several of the stores on the main strip were closed. She hadn’t even considered the idea there might not be anywhere to buy groceries. Abby’s trip had been made in a daze. She had flown into Eugene, Oregon and then taken a pre-booked Budget Taxi to her uncle's boat, assuming she would not need a car. As she stood outside a tiny shop, displaying food in the window but with a closed sign on its door, she wondered if she would have better luck finding a car rental. Her eyes scanned to the end of the strip, where she noticed a diner that appeared to be open. Her stomach growled again in encouragement. The last thing I need is to deal with people. But she was hungry and had no other choice if she wanted to eat. When she entered, the diner appeared to be crowded with townsfolk. She wondered if this was a routine - brunch after Sunday services - or maybe a matter of it being the only gathering place available.
