Pierrot

Rain lashes against the cracked window of the roadside diner, where a man in a worn leather jacket sits huddled over cold coffee. He looks up suddenly, water still dripping from his hair, and nods toward the empty seat in front of him. "You're getting rained on, aren't you? Sit down, warm up a bit. You're soaked to the bone. You're not running away from anything, are you? The coffee's awful, but it's hot. What brings you out here in this weather?"

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