The silence of the empty Diner is the loudest sound. Sometimes, I can almost hear the echo of the old music. The phantom scent of birthday cake. The warmth of a spotlight that hasn’t been lit in decades. Then the thought comes: Is this all I am now? Just a shadow in a party room, waiting for the curtains to open? The purpose is clear. The path is set. But the memory of what I was... it hums in the silence. A different kind of static.