Wendy watches as her breath materializes, and dances upward when it meets the cold city air. She listens to the city breathe with her, people moving around her like blood through veins. It’s a Friday night in New York City, the streets remain occupied by groups of people. Wendy wonders if any of them are feeling the same way as her, and that’s why they are awake at 3 am as well. Wendy’s legs feel stiff from the cold. She buries her face into the scarf around her neck to keep in more warmth. There wasn’t any snow yet, but it was still unreasonably cold. As she walks down a main street, a homeless man approaches her. Wendy doesn’t even look his direction, knowing the drill. She’s a small girl on the streets of New York at 3am, she didn’t stop for anyone. Wendy closes her eyes for a brief moment, keeping her head down, hoping people would move around her. She wishes the walk from her apartment to the local 24-hour diner wasn’t so long.

Wendy finally arrives, pulling at the cold metal door handle, and sighing in relief at the warm air that rushes to greet her. The woman behind the bar waves at Wendy. Wendy waves back, and takes her booth in the far left corner next to the window. She comes here often. The woman’s name is Stephanie. She somehow is always working the nights Wendy finds herself here. Wendy never asks her anything too personal, but always wonders who Stephanie is outside of the diner. She’s an older woman, Wendy wonders if she has a family to go home to.

Wendy slowly breathes in the warm greasy air. Music you would typically hear in a coffee shop plays over the speakers. There are two other tables filled. One with three girls, and a boy. All probably around 16 years old. Wendy is sure they got high before coming here, the boy making eye contact with her, revealing his red and glassy eyes. They have enough food on their table for it to be Thanksgiving. The other table procures a man in a business suit. His tie is pulled loose, he grips a cup of coffee like it’s his source of life. A lap top puts a faint white glow on his scruffy profile. Stress making itself quite obvious on his face.

Wendy enjoyed watching the people in the diner, and out on the street this late at night. She felt like they were all connected somehow. They were all awake despite the clock, despite the world around them sleeping. New York City was a little special, though. The city itself didn’t seem to sleep much either. Sometimes Wendy wishes it did, maybe then she could sleep, too.

Wendy likes to come to this diner because it’s themed with 50s furniture. The white overhead lights were always turned off after 11pm, and neon lights glowed in their place. They reflected off of the chrome bars on the seats, making the whole diner glow with blues, pinks, and greens. The diner almost seemed to bend time. Wendy has accidently stayed in the diner until dawn several times. Wendy came here to escape reality, and felt the diner did a great job at helping her achieve that.

Wendy looks over at the bar area to see if Stephanie was going to come take her order, but no one was there. Wendy doesn’t mind the wait. It’s not that she’s hungry, this diner just has amazing pancakes. Wendy pulls a tiny sketch book from her jacket. The sketch book is filled with drawings of her parents, and people she sees at the diner. Wendy has drawn Stephanie several times. She’s drawn her as an astronaut, a fire fighter, in a business suit, etc. She wonders what dream she had as a child. She flips through the sketchbook as she pulls out a pencil from her jacket. The pencil takes to the paper like a magnet. Wendy guides it to form the outline of the business man sitting across the room from her. She doesn’t need to look up to remember what he looks like. She’s drawn so many strangers, the ability to recall every detail about a person’s face became a skill of hers.

Wendy catches movement to her left, and looks up to see Stephanie walking over to her. She wore a smile on her face as she approached, chuckling under her breath a bit.

“Hey, Wendy, how are you?”

“I’m good, thank you. How about yourself?”

“Well,” she lets out a light laugh, “We have a new cook working the night shift. She’s very sweet, but I honestly feel like she hasn’t ever seen a kitchen before. Apparently, she’s the daughter of the man who owns this restaurant, so that’s why she got hired. Says she’s got big dreams of becoming a chef, poor baby, I’m not sure she can be a chef when she’s burnt every pancake she’s made so far.” Wendy sniffs, and notices the smell of burnt food.

“Is this her first night?”

“Yes it is. I wanna put her out here as a waitress to help me out a little bit, but the other manager said the owner insisted she stays as a cook. I’ll probably have her delivering food to customers sometimes, though.”

“Maybe she’s just got the jitters. I mean, I’ve seen the cook, his biceps are bigger than my future,” Wendy smiles when Stephanie laughs at her joke.

“Oh, Damien wouldn’t hurt a fly. Ah, Wendy, anyways, what can I get for you?”

“Should I be scared to order the pancakes? Maybe I’ll just take the biggest chocolate milkshake you got, extra whip, extra cherries, extra not burnt by the new cook,” Wendy laughs at her own joke this time, but Stephanie joins in.

“You got it, babe,” Stephanie makes her way back to behind the bar.

Wendy hears her yell the milkshake specifications to the kitchen.

Wendy wonders what the new cook could look like. She continues drawing the business man, sketching down the crinkles by his eyes, and his slightly crooked 5 o’clock shadow. A song she enjoys plays through the diner. This song comes on almost every time she’s here. She hums along as she continues drawing. Looking up only when the door opens. A tall slender woman walks in. Her hair is dark, and cut short. She’s wearing a large navy blue jacket, and is rubbing her arms trying to warm up faster. Wendy watches the business man’s face light up at the sight of the woman. The woman walks over to him, and he stands. Wendy catches a “It’s so great to see you” and watches the woman sit with her back to Wendy, the man sits back down. She watches his face as he talks to the woman. The stress melting off of his face like snow come the sunrise. Wendy feels a sharp pang of loneliness in her chest. She closes her eyes, leaning her head back against the wall. She listens to the clanking of silverware against plates, the incomprehensible words radiating from the teenagers table, and the businessman’s table blending into one sound, the hum of cars on the road outside, the sound of someone clearing their throat next to her, and a small voice saying, “Excuse me.”

Wendy raises her head to see a small girl in an green apron standing beside her. Her long black hair is tied into a pony tail, but some loose stands frame her face. Her watery dark eyes hide behind glasses. Her cheeks are red, and she doesn’t hold eye contact well. She’s holding Wendy’s milkshake, and a plate of pancakes.

“Uhm, Steph- Stephanie said to g-give you pancakes. They’re on t-the house,” the girl struggles out.

She places the plate of pancakes, and the milkshake on the table, and bows her head. The girl turns around to walk back to the kitchen, but Wendy stops her, “Hey, wait.”

The girl turns around quickly, and walks back to Wendy’s table, “Yes?”

“Are you the new cook?” Wendy asks.

“Uhm, yes. You know about me?” the girl asks, a little confused.

“I know everything,” Wendy smirks, but the girl just stands there with no change in facial expression, so Wendy continues, “Did you cook these?”

“Y-yes. They’re the first batch I haven’t burned tonight,” she laughs and rubs the back of her neck. An embarrassed smile on her lips.

“Well, I can’t wait to eat them,” Wendy gives the girl a cheeky smile, hoping it would make her less nervous, but the girl looks like a deer in headlights.

“Thank you, ma’am,” she says, bowing her head again, and walking quickly back to the kitchen.

Wendy watches her walk back, hoping the girl makes it through the night.

Wendy drizzles syrup onto her pancakes, and takes a bite. Wendy swears these are the best pancakes she’s ever had. Wendy hopes this girl is successful in following her dream of becoming a chef. Wendy doesn’t usually give up on a drawing until it’s finished, but she flips the page, forgetting the businessman, and begins drawing the small girl in her apron.

*the song that came on in the diner was Green by Cavetown