Freelance Fiction / Non-Fiction author with over 20 years of experience
- Published 3 novels and multiple video game strategy guides (40+)
- Ghost writer for fiction and non-fiction
- Business / Technical writer
- Article summaries and reviews
One More Time
Kevin Davis sat in the stark, white room and waited. To say that the room was minimally furnished was an understatement. There was a standard industrial issue aluminum table with four matching chairs, and he was sitting in the same one he always occupied. Aside from the table and chairs, there was nothing else in the room. The walls were bright white, and the floor was tiled in white as well. The bright ceiling lights banished any shadows. Kevin always joked, to himself of course, that coming here was like sitting inside a giant refrigerator with the light on.
The Waffle Shoppe on the corner of Lancaster and 2nd street had been a fixture in the southern California neighborhood for decades. Its grey cinderblock walls were cloaked in dirt and grime, the roof sagged, and the parking lot was cracked and pitted. The neon sign on top of the building flickered weakly, with only the W, S, and one P working.