The night rain drives them in here.
White neon and guilty looks.
Looking away, looking down, still white-glared upon.
Outside, blurred colourful neon in the dark.
More customers that aren’t, and those that become.
Stranded irregulars
trapping themselves inside the glass walls
looking for a purpose of being here.
Shuffling flicking through magazines.
Alibi hotdog purchases.
Shoving in the door area.
A baby crying.
A toy tantrum.
Someone regrets his hotdog purchase,
woeful looks outside.
But the rain falls on.
And the white light sees all.

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