My name ought to be mounted somewhere on this table, except for the fact that nobody but me would care, of course.
I’m sitting in a booth where I must have sat a thousand times before. It’s in a Whataburger restaurant in the Birmingham suburb of Trussville. Until I moved to a different suburb three years ago, this was my home away from home for many years.
When this place opened, it was the only restaurant near my house that was open 24 hours a day and had WiFi. Since I worked from home at the time and often welcomed the chance to get out, this became my second office. I was here at all hours of the day and night. All the employees knew me by name.
I have no reason to be over here today. I almost never come to this part of town anymore. But today is the second time recently that I’ve felt drawn to drive over here for no apparent reason. But I think I know why I’m here.

Spooky stories: My friends share their real-life weird experiences
Everybody has times when he needs someone to save his life
We often don’t see who loves us until it’s too late to be an option
Question the ‘experts’: They don’t know as much as they think
Why does the mainstream ignore those whose predictions were right?
My father’s death was proof that unhappiness quickly kills a man
We find meaning in responsibility, not in pursuit of empty pleasures
Love & Hope — Episode 14:
The world becomes magical when the right person says, ‘I love you’