tuna melt on pita bread by Angela Thomas we sat in a crowded diner during a lunch rush full of tourists and old ladies picking at stacks of off-colored pancakes over an off-colored book. there were vertical blinds, several missing, and the last one just dangling, not attached, in the windowsill next to us. reaching across the table, the booth was squished just a little too close to the table for comfort. i heard the look in his eyes before the words fell from his mouth. the waiter interrupted and asked if there was anything else, and i lied through my tears, 'we're good.' my heart sank into my stomach. i looked down at my empty plate. i felt full and unsatisfied. 04/17/2014 Posted on 04/17/2014 Copyright © 2024 Angela Thomas Member Comments on this Poem Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 04/17/14 at 11:36 PM Excellent, vivid story telling, Angela. And one can only imagine what he said, which is one of the best parts of this. Return to the Previous Page   pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online All works Copyright © 2024 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)