May 16
Closed for @ofmymanymuses
Donnie sat in a booth at the diner downtown, a hole in the wall sort of place, his sort of place. He stared at the pancakes in front of him, scraping the whipped cream off the top with his fork before pouring a heap of syrup onto the stack. Late night breakfast was one of the few joys Donnie had.
He looked over, spotting the woman sitting a table away from him and leaned over. "You ever think about how glasses could hide Clark Kents identity?" he asked, the question seeming random but it had been buzzing around in his head for the last 20 minutes. "Don't make no sense." he shrugged.