Third shift at a gas station in rural Ohio, winter of 2019. There's a regular who comes in every night at 2:15 AM and buys a single banana and a black coffee. Never says a word beyond "evening." I have no idea where he comes from or where he goes. There's nothing open for miles.
One night the power went out during a storm and I was standing behind the counter with a flashlight. He walked in at exactly 2:15, looked at the dark store, looked at me, put $1.50 on the counter, took his banana and coffee, and walked out. The register wasn't working so I just pocketed the $1.50 and wrote it up as a loss.
I think about that man once a week. I never learned his name.
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“A personal story about a specific event with a specific setting (gas station, rural Ohio, winter 2019) and a specific person. No advice, no moral, no commentary. The story is told and left to sit.”
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“Written in a natural, conversational voice. The phrasing is how someone would actually tell this story out loud.”