The waitress stuck out her lower lip, nodded. "Okay, here's the
menu. What'll you have? The western omelette's not bad. Makes a
good meal."
Randy ordered the omelette and coffee.
"I'll have the omelette and milk," Demo decided.
"Hey, Guru, where'd you get that rig? What's your thing,
anyway? You're awful close mouthed."
"Randy, you ever hear of people traveling through time?"
"Oh, great! All right, forget it. Sorry I asked."
"No, really, I'm serious. I'm from Greece . . . from long time
ago Greece. Don't ask me how I got here. I really don't know.
And I don't know how to get back." Demo's disconsolate look
almost convinced Randy.
"You are one good actor. I'm ready to break out a hanky. Look,
I was out of line. You don't have to tell me anything. Hell,
I've told you practically nothing about me, now have I?"
They finished their omelettes, and Randy was sipping his coffee
when Demo glanced out the window.
"It's him! It's Cronus! I'm going back! Randy, thank you for
your help. Here, take this money."
Demo pulled out handsful of bills, laid them on the table in
front of Randy.
"Cronus! Come off it!" Randy glanced out the window.
A tall figure, dressed as was Demo, stood on the sidewalk. His
face was grim, and he was making some weird, ritualistic
motions. Randy looked toward Demo.
Demo was fading. At the moment he seemed at some point between
clear jello and fog, with fog gaining the upper hand.
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