Robert

To the twanging rhythm of rubber bands snapping and staccato footfalls, a family atmosphere is lost. Fingers that once pointed through glass have been severed by gnarled claws. Fallen brothers are gathered from platters; dragged between Coca-Colas and Arnold Palmers, over “customers” slumped in their booths. Tomorrow’s headline will read, “Revolution at Red Lobster”, while the quickest route to the sea is found.