He started coming to the diner about a month ago. His face a little ruddy with wrinkles that showed his age. Every night, around 6:30, you could find him sitting alone in the same corner booth. He would order a chicken salad sandwich and a glass of water. Other than placing his order and a thank you when it was delivered to his table, he never said a word to anyone. He would finish his meal in silence, leave a ten dollar bill on the table, get up and walk out the door. He’d nod his head in acknowledgement when he received the customary ‘Have a nice night.’
The staff and other regulars were curious and would often speculate on the newcomer’s circumstances. Some thought maybe he was a widower, others an old war vet with no family. They even thought he could be a recently released convict. None of them would be correct. One day, in the very near future, his purpose would be revealed.