The Lonely Ones

It was evening, a little after 6:00 when Lorry sauntered into the small cafe where she had eaten her solitary dinners for almost a year. She was a handsome woman with rather a stocky build, short wavy brown hair, about 30 years old. She wore a smartly tailored suit of navy blue, with accessories to match.

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Lorry was tired very tired. She was tired of work, being alone, and even of life itself. Solemnly, she sat down on the stool at the counter and ordered her solitary meal. The food was undisputably lousy, but she ate there night after night regardless, because at least this little restaurant afforded her a semblance of peace after an irksome day.

Absently she watched the waitress as she set down the silver and placed the unappetizing meal before her.

Picking up her fork, she thought morosely, "Just where am I heading, and what am I doing in this stinking world?"

In this frame of mind she began and finished her meal.

As she lit a cigarette to accompany her after dinner coffee, Lorry suddenly became acutely aware of her surroundings. The juke box that sat in front of her on the counter became an object of meaning, instead of a piece of metal with buttons and a slot as it had always been. She began listlessly to peruse the titles of the various selections. As she scanned the list, her eyes lighted upon one particular song-"Paper Doll". "That's what I need, a paper doll," she thought sardonically.

Taking a coin from her pocket, she played the song that would only torture her all the more. "I'm feeling sorry for myself. So what!", she reflected. "Who's going to care about me if I don't?" This, she mumbled almost audibly.

Loathing to go home as she lived in a gloomy, damp, dark, ugly tomb that was called a room by her landlady, and who charged for it accordingly, Lorry lingered on for some time after her meal ordering repeated cups of coffee, and playing "Paper Doll" until the rest of the diners in the restaurant were ready to tear the wires out of the juke box by the roots.

Lorry had been thwarted in love by an angel who proved to be a devil. Yet, Lorry couldn't rid herself of the feeling that the devil was still an angel. They had taken her to the heights of love, companionship and happiness, and then had thrown her down-bitterly-with a crushing blow to utter despair and disillusionment.

That had happened almost a year ago, and Lorry still mourned.

While she was brooding, deep in her mood, a thin, pale, yet well-dressed girl about 25 years old walked into the cafe and sat shyly down on the stool next to her. The girl ordered a bowl of soup-nothing more.

As she started to eat her soup, Lorry turned slightly on her stool and glanced slyly at her profile, noting that she was quite attractive. The girl somehow seemed to sense Lorry's feelings, and she turned and gave Lorry a wan friendly smile.

Lorry smiled back-thought for a moment, then decided to engage the girl in

conversation.

"Is that all you're going to eat?" She asked solicitiously.

"I think so," the girl said sweetly, "I'm not very hungry tonight."

"For cryin' out loud, how do you expect to keep your health by only eating slop like that?" Lorry grated at her.

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