There were few customers in the restaurant, which was unusual at 1pm. Gabriel felt a bit uncomfortable about the lack of customers, but he didn’t think much about it. It wasn’t his first time to witness the Torn Pot restaurant having a slow business hour. He had seen the features of the muscular dark skin at the other table, but he didn’t see the face of the man who joined him at the table.
Gabriel couldn’t discern the face of the man who sat with the muscular Black man. The strange thing was that when Gabriel took a casual glance at the face of the man in the trench coat, he knew he was looking at a face, but his brain couldn’t record the features he saw. It was as if something blocked the information pathway between his eyes and his brain.