Why does silverware vibrate at exactly 3:17 AM? What's causing those impossible reflections in the chrome counter? How do coffee cups end up perfectly aligned every morning? What makes the jukebox play that strange melody when unplugged, and why do customers' watches always run slow in booth number five?
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There’s a safety in thinking in a diner. You can have your coffee or your milk shake, and you can go off into strange dark areas, and always come back to the safety of the diner.
― David Lynch, Catching the Big Fish: Meditation, Consciousness, and Creativity
The coffee at Beth’s Diner had always been strong, but lately it tasted of metal and something else—something that made your teeth ache. Martha had been working the night shift for three months now, ever since Beth had mysteriously disappeared, leaving only a hastily scrawled note about “feeding them properly.”
The regulars still came. Old Tom with his trembling hands and hollow stare. The truck driver who never removed his cap, even though something seemed wrong with the shape of his skull beneath it. The woman in the corner booth who ordered raw hamburger and ate it with her fingers, her nails having grown uncommonly long.
Martha had tried to quit twice. Both times, she’d found herself back behind the counter the next evening, unable to remember how she’d gotten there. The keys were always in her pocket, warm to the touch.
Tonight felt different. The fluorescent lights flickered in patterns that seemed almost purposeful. The coffee maker gurgled with sounds that weren’t quite mechanical. And from the walk-in freezer came a persistent scratching, though Martha had checked it three times and found nothing but the usual hanging sides of beef—sides that seemed to shift when she wasn’t looking directly at them.
The bell above the door chimed, and another customer entered. This one was new, normal-looking, with kind eyes and a genuine smile. Martha felt a sudden urge to warn them, to tell them to leave, but her mouth wouldn’t form the words.
Instead, she heard herself say, “Welcome to Beth’s. What can I get you?”
The scratching from the freezer grew louder, and Martha realized she was already reaching for the order pad, her hand moving of its own accord. The customer’s smile widened, revealing teeth that were just slightly too sharp.
“Surprise me,” they said. “I’m not picky about what I eat.”
