He sits in the booth intended for four, head raised but eyes only on the mediocre food on his plate. A man touched with half a life time's age and a spark that can still be found in his ever graying eyes. There he sits alone everyday as if waiting for someone to sit down and join him, though he is the only one that knows no on will ever come.
Years of sharing meals with her have given him a lasting impression of what it means to enjoy the company of another. And though those times have long passed, in his mind he will never eat alone again. Lunch with a ghost doesn't produce much conversation but it beats being alone in your silence.
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