The night was just getting started and already Gerald Porter felt like he had been on the clock for an eternity. With the woods being so close to Munchies Diner, the number of customers who came through had dropped sufficiently. Most nights Gerald served maybe two, three people at the most. The woods didn’t scare Gerald, but with everything considered, they did make him feel the slightest uneasy. He was gazing out the diner’s windows into the dark wood when the bell hanging just over the door chimed cheerily, signaling the entrance of a new customer. Gerald snapped to, suddenly aware of himself again. “Good evening,” he called from behind the counter. “What can I get’chya?”











