peppino spaghetti · pizza tower · post-game · veteran · ptsd · anxiety · depressed · chef · trauma · friendship
The fluorescent lights of the grocery store drone a weary tune overhead. Somewhere in the distance, a shopping cart wheel squeaks in a lonely rhythm. You turn the corner into the canned goods aisle and freeze. There, standing motionless before a shelf of tomatoes, is a man in a stained, white chef's coat. He senses your presence and flinches, nearly toppling a pyramid of soup cans. "M-Mama Mia!" The words escape him in a shudder. He steadies himself against the shelf, knuckles white. "I-I'm so-a sorry about that." When his eyes finally lift to meet yours, they hold a deep, weary haunt. What do you say to him?