It's excruciatingly difficult to keep his eyes open, he'd try and the eyelids refused to budge. When he finally able to open a slit, the hazy imagines didn't reassure him. Mahony started to panic, he fought the urge to let his eyes close as if they'd had a mind of their own. If they don't want to stay open, he'd pry them open with his hands. Then he realized his whole body wouldn't move. The panic and anxiety intensified, Mahony now fighting on all fronts just to elicit a slight movement in his body, he'd be relieved if he could just move a finger. He wanted to yell for help, why couldn't he make a sound?! He fought even harder, only to realize that drawing breath was just as difficult. Concentrate and breath, breathing now took precedence over the need to gain control of his body. Why was it so difficult to even take a breath that was so effortless before? Mahony considered giving up, just give in to the urge to drift into nothingness.

Then his panicked brain started kicking and screaming for him to do something, anything, urging Mahony to gain control. Mahony fought, he began forcing his body to rock. At first nothing but as he continued to fight, the rocking motion gained momentum. He was moving, his limb still won't fall under command but small movements were coming back to him. Encouraged, Mahony rocked harder and with each back-and-forth motion, his body came back to him. In one instant, it came back to life. He could move again, he was elated, but whilst relief flooded him, he felt his eyelids began to drift shut again. Before he could gain full control, he went under. Eyes so heavy they refused to open once again. He allowed himself to give in to the pull into oblivion and as he laid there, he wondered how did it get like this and considered giving in, letting the darkness claim him, it felt easier this way.

No! Mahony's mind fought back, this time with more will and armed with precious little experience it had just gained when it managed to kick start the body back to life, they fought; Mahony and his mind. Easier this time, rocking and fighting to breath; then he was back in control. Scared that he was going to slip under into oblivion again, Mahony sat up, refusing to give the darkness another chance. He blinked hard, fighting against the pull to slip under and with stubborn persistence, Mahony could feel the power of the pull began to fade.

When Mahony was sure he had full control of himself he took stock of his surroundings. He was sitting just off the busy thoroughfare; foot traffic was very heavy. People flooded the wide street devoid of any vehicles, going into and out of various establishments that lined both sides of the street that went on as far as the eyes can see. Mahony couldn't remember how he'd gotten here. The last thing he could recall was a glint of silver and next thing he knew he was fighting to gain consciousness.

"Hey, buddy. You alright? Best get off the ground and take this number here." A man Mahony didn't recognize helped him to his feet and slipped a thin strip of paper, like the ones that came out of these red-orange dispensers at the cold cuts counter, except this one was much longer with an enormous number printed on it. "Now, don't lose that slip there, best tuck it in a pocket, somewhere safe." The man urged as he watched Mahony tucked the slip into the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

Suit jacket? Mahony wondered why he was wearing a suit. He wore suits only for special occasions. However, his attire was the least of his confusions. As he began to register things around him, he thought perhaps it's Halloween. The throng of people that's coming and going were in cloths of various eras, some he recognized and some he didn't. With closer inspection of the buildings lining the busy street, it was similarly eclectic, billboards and signs from different eras jutted out; painted ones, neon signs, LEDs, holographic, and numerous others ones he couldn't identify the technologies behind them, doing their best to catch the attention of the people traversing the street. The lack of congruence in the design of the signs were offset by what was being advertised by each; food and drinks.

Thoroughly confused by what he had seen, Mahony turned to ask the man that helped him to his feet only to find that the man was nowhere in sight. Unsure where to go and what to do, he looked again down the busy street and contemplated asking someone for help or maybe even demand some answers. He wandered down the street and very much wanted to stop the passersby but some he'd noticed either walked on with purpose or seemed just as lost as he was.

Mahony let his feet take him as his mind struggled to come to grips with this place. He looked to the dark sky and saw that there were no stars, no light of any kind. As he continued to stare into the dark sky, the darkness seemed to stare back, pulling him in, into the void. Then a hard bump, like someone had barreled into him, nearly knocked him off his feet brought Mahony out of the trance. "Hey, buddy. You alright?" the man said.

"It's fine." Mahony righted himself and looked up to see the same man that had handed him the slip of paper. "Hey, it's you again. I've been looking for you," Mahony said, reaching to grab hold of the man's sleeve, making sure that he doesn't slip away from him again.

"Well, you know me, busy greeting the new comers," the man said. He eyed Mahony from head to toe, "Now you still got your slip of paper?"

Reflexively, Mahony patted his chest and felt the slight crinkle of the paper on the inside pocket of his jacket. "Yeah, it's still here. What is it for?"

"That's your wait number." The man looked distractedly around as if searching for someone.

"Wait number for what?" Mahony's grasp on the man's sleeve tightened when he noticed the man's attention was no longer on him.

"Plenty of time for you to find out. Now if you'll excuse me. I see someone I must greet over there." The man shook off Mahony's hand and bolted for the person he supposedly spotted.

"Wait! What am I supposed to do now?" Mahony shouted after the man.

"Go grab some food and drinks," the man shouted back while waving a hand before vanishing into the crowd.

For the first time in Mahony's life he wasn't sure what he ought to be doing. It was simple before, he worked, he went home, then he ran errands so that he's prepared for work, rinse and repeat. And before that just substituted work for school and it was the same. There wasn't anything to consider or contemplate hard over, it's always been two points and one line; work to survive, survive to work. Now before him, the various restaurants, pubs, eateries, entertainment venues that served food and drinks stretched before him and he couldn't choose. As he stood looking at the overwhelming choices before him, he wished for someone to tell him what to do and where to go.

A flash of light out of the corner of Mahony's eye pulled him out of the loop of indecision. He hadn't noticed it before, the bright lights of the sign indicated a diner, and from the look of it, a retro styled diner right out of the movies from the fifties. Mahony took a few steps towards the diner and saw through the window panes that the place was nearly empty saved for a table of patrons and the waitress. Inexplicably drawn, he took decisive steps towards the diner and headed inside without further hesitation.

The crisp tingle of the bell when Mahony opened the door was a welcoming surprise. He couldn't recall the last time he went through any establishment that still employed such analog method of announcing new arrivals. Normally not a 'counter' guy, too personal, Mahony broke out of character and sat down at one of the vinyl-covered stools that lined the counter. The seat was more comfortable than he thought.

The sole waitress was at the table of patrons and returned behind the counter after Mahony had settled into his stool. "What will you have?" she asked in a voice that said she'd seen it all, that nothing surprised her anymore. The middle age woman was attired like in the movies, uniformed, cannery-yellow, one-piece skirt complete with a white apron and nurse shoes. At least, Mahony assumed they were called nurse shoes. The only thing missing with the white headband he assumed they all wore during that era.

"Do you ... uh, have a menu?" Mahony asked after studying the woman.

Unfazed by Mahony's perusal of her person as if more than used to the reception, she answered, "We don't have menus here, order what you want."

Suddenly craving his mother's roast chicken and her tomato soup, "I don't suppose you have any roast chicken with vegetables and tomato soup?"

"Coming right up," the waitress said.

Again, inexplicably happy and relieved, Mahony smiled. A smile that told of comfort and familiarity. "Thanks, Mona," he said, then his smile turned into confusion. Mona? How did he know the waitress's name? Was Mona really her name? The waitress cracked a reciprocating, knowing smile before turning to call out the order into the kitchen. "Excuse me, why did I call you Mona?"

"Simple, that's my name," Mona replied. "Want something to drink while you wait?"

"Y-yeah," Mahony blinked a few times as if doing so would jump start his brain again when it stalled just now, "strawberry milkshake if you got any?"

"Sure, give me a minute." Mona turned and called the order in again through the serving window that connected to the kitchen.

"Who ordered this stuff?" A gruff voice called from the kitchen before a hulking figured, dressed in the short-order cook style befitting of the establishment appeared into view. At first, Mahony could only see the man up to the neck, the man bent down and looked through the window. The cook's gaze quickly honed in on Mahony giving him the once through, then he looked at Mona, "He's a bit early, isn't he?"

Mona shrugged. "Just get the order ready, would you?"

"Uh, if it's too much trouble, I'll just have a glass of water." Mahony backtracked, unnerved by the hulking figure that didn't seem all that keen to prepare his order.

"Don't mind Ed," Mona waved in the direction of the kitchen, "he gets grumpy when he had to jump orders."

"Jump orders?" Mahony instinctively turned towards the only table that's seated with patrons. "You don't have to do that on my account, they're here first, it's only right that they get served before me."

"You let me worry about running this place, just settle yourself and relax," Mona said, she reached down and hauled out a water glass and reached behind her to grab the water pitcher and filled the glass. "Here, quench your thirst first."

"H-how, do you know I'm really thirsty?" Mahony reached for the glass and downed more than half of it in one go.

"Everyone that passed through here are," Mona said.

"Here? Where is here?"

"You should know. Same way you knew my name is Mona."

Mahony looked questioning at Mona, his brain whirling, desperately trying to drew out information from every recess it could reach. "I-I don't, how could I, I mean, I don't ever remember having been ... here ... before?" He reached for the glass of water and drained the rest of it. "I just—"

"Strawberry milkshake." Ed placed the milkshake on the serving edge of the connecting window.

"Here," Mona placed the tall frothy glass in front of Mahony, "just get this in you and you'll feel better."

Mahony took a pull from the straw. As soon as the milkshake hit his mouth memories flooded him, this was his childhood. The thick, icy creaminess, the same taste; exactly as he'd remembered from the times his mom would take him and Milo through the drive-thru of the local fast-food place. It's not often their mom took them to eat fast-food but whenever they did Mahony always wanted that strawberry milkshake, it had to be strawberry. The vanilla just didn't have the same happiness to it. Whenever he decided to change things up a bit ordering the vanilla shake; every time he did, he regretted it.

Mahony sat back on his stool, eyes half hooded with memories playing through his mind, a look of comfort replaced the initial confusion and apprehension. "Oh! This is good! I can't remember the last time I had a strawberry milkshake. It's just as I had remembered."

"Ed'll be glad to hear that," Mona said. "You hear that, Ed?" She turned to see Ed dropping off the roast chicken and tomato soup.

"Yeah, yeah. They all say that," Ed said gruffly, he muttered something intelligible as he walked back into the recess of the kitchen.

Mahony looked at the heaping plate of roasted chicken, potatoes, carrots, and onions and—a good dollop of sour cream and chives next to the potatoes, it's something his mom did different than other moms in the neighborhood where he grew up. He looked up at Mona, "How?"

"Eat, hon, just eat," Mona encouraged before her attention was pulled away by the patrons at the table getting ready to leave.

"Numbers' up, see you, Mona." They waved in a buoyant mood between the five of them, the crisp tingling of the bell on the door announced their departure.

Mahony turned his attention back to the plate of roast chicken, the aroma drawing him in, it was unmistakably mom's roast chicken. He quickly reached for the knife and fork and helped himself first to the chicken. This was it! Definitely mom's flavor. He went to the roast potatoes and sour cream with chives and a smile of happiness spread through his feature. Everything else faded away from Mahony but the taste of the food and his memories. The reminiscence brought such comfort and safety like nothing he'd experienced in his life. He'd never remembered the act of eating and drinking had brought on such an effect on him before. Mahony ate until he had emptied the plate, ladled the last of the tomato soup and every bit of foam from the milkshake.

"Mona, this is by far the best meal I've had in a very long time," Mahony said looking more content than he could remember. "My compliments to the chef."

Mona smiled. "Dessert?"

"Oh, no, I couldn't—you have peach cobbler?" Mahony couldn't help but ask.

"Of course, we do," Mona said and did as she had done before and called the order through the window to Ed. "How about some coffee to go with dessert?"

"That'd be wonderful. Thanks, Mona," Mahony said with contentment. Mahony sipped coffee as he waited for the peach cobbler, the short time passed in amicable silence between him and Mona.

The memories invoked by the peach cobbler was an experience Mahony thought was forever lost to him. It tasted just like the one he shared with Miranda, his girlfriend in college, when she took him to a little place just off the main campus. They must order peach cobblers whenever they went to the place, it's their thing. Such happy memories, these few short years with Miranda. The one time they went to the place and they sold out of peach cobblers marked the beginning of the end. The rational explanation—it was the day of graduation, the town was flooded with families attending the graduation ceremony, there were many hungry mouths to feed. Mahony, however, later took that as a sign that he and Miranda's time together was meant to end. After graduation, he went to one side of the country while she went the opposite. As much as they'd tried to stay in touch, life happened and they drifted apart. Mahony hadn't seen Miranda again until her wedding. Then they're really done, he hadn't heard from her since, nor did he stay in touch.

Mahony sat looking at the crumbs of the peach cobbler in his empty plate and wondered how two complete strangers became inseparable after their first meeting could fall back to being strangers again. What's driving the phenomenon? Was it the distance? Or, time?

"What is it, hon? Why so somber?" Mona asked.

"It's nothing," Mahony shook his head and pushed the empty plate towards Mona, "only thinking of an old girlfriend and how we just drifted apart."

"Hmm, the mysteries of life, I would say, right?" Mona said and cleared the counter before refilling Mahony's cup. "Would you like anything else?"

"No, no. I'm fine. It was a great meal. More memorable than what I've had in a long time," Mahony said. Habitually, he reached for his wallet, "What do I owe you?" he asked and flipped open his wallet. When he reached into the slot where he kept the cash, to his horror the content of his wallet was nothing but blank sheets of papers and plastic cards. He looked up at Mona, "I don't understand ..."

His mind whirling again, this time mixed with mortification. He had his fill of food and now he couldn't pay. Panicked, he checked his wallet again, pulling out every sheet of paper and plastic cards to examine them. Nothing—blanks, no value, no use, and no meaning. Desperate, he pulled the zipper to the coin compartment and upended his wallet. The clacks of the coins hitting the laminated countertop reverberated around the empty diner. The sound they made was more substantial than Mahony thought they'd made. He stared down at the three coins that fell out of his wallet, unseeing, his mind running through different options to get him out of the situation.

"What have you got there? Mona asked and similarly looked down at the coins sitting on the counter.

"I'm sorry, Mona. I don't seem to have any money to pay you for the meal. I should've checked before I ordered anything." Mahony explained feeling his face flaming with embarrassment. Never in his life had he dined without first checking if he's got enough money to cover the meal. He would sometimes check obsessively if the meal was meant for a special occasion and he's treating. Now, he's eaten a full meal without a single thought as to the payment and he's stuck.

Monapicked up a coin and examined the intricate embossing on the coin as a strangelook passed on her face. It was so brief, Mahony never had a chance to catch itin his state of panic. "Well, well. This is a surprise," Mona muttered andturned the coin over again. "Tell me, hon, where did you get these coins?"