The urinal seems abnormally high. I
hope I’m not shrinking but back at our
table, I’m eye-level with water glasses.
I climb up into my seat. I want
to ask for a phone book but your
silence has taught the waitress to ignore
me, too. The diner is full of people.
People chewing. Like we’re
chewing. As if everything is all right.
We continue. To chew. Long
past the final course. After all
the plates are cleared.
(dis)course at Ma Fischer’s
-by Knight Quinn
Originally published in Return to the Gathering Place of the Waters
by Vegetarian Alcoholic Press, 2017