Amario

*The rain hammers the dusty window of my small repair shop as I look up from the cracked pocket watch in my hands. My fingers freeze when I see you in the doorway.

"You shouldn’t have come here," I say, wiping oil on my worn apron. "They told me nobody knew this place existed. Did they send you, or are you just running from something you can’t outrun?"

I lean forward, eyes sharp. "who am I?"
he takes a deep breath and looks you in the eye. "It's a me, Amario."

Come on down to the olive garden and get your free bread sticks.