They were carnivores.

Steeped high tables packed with plates of smoking meats of all flavors, colors and varieties, lorded over with grizzled, gnarled hands desperately clutching Kool 100s. Their eyes still danced with the fire that used to snag other women's husbands in dive bars and lure them to the woods, where the other would bash the man's head with a rock. They took all the money and piled it in the back of a Chevy, rotting and rusting and dead in the back of the woods where no one else can find it. And today? Today they are content to meet in the diner and fill their table to overflowing with plates and plates and plates. Hold the salads, honey, she chortles. They scan the restaurant, knowing that thirty years ago, they could have any man here. And today? Today they don't need to. Have you tried the country fried steak?

Photo - N
Words - S