Another week, another paragraph. Enjoy!
John shook his head free of the memories of those days and pushed open the restaurant’s door.
The inside was bright, lit by recessed lights in the ceiling and paper lanterns stuffed with Christmas lights. It was small, with room for only a dozen tables, all of them equipped with soy sauce and stained white table cloths. John watched the chefs. On another day, he might have sat at the sushi bar and watched them chop and hack and laugh and cook. Instead, he walked over to a spot near the door, sat down, and stared out the window.