The door suddenly swung open, letting in the cool air. An imposing biker, clad in leather, entered, his boots striking the floor with force. He scanned the room, his gaze lingering on the old man’s table. “You dare, old dinosaur?” he roared. The whole diner froze — forks hovered in mid-air, whispers died away.

The biker raised his voice. “I told you, you’re in my spot, old skin. Move before I make you.” The old man looked up, his gaze tired. “Son, I’ve survived horrors you can’t even imagine. But if you’re so determined to have this seat, take it.”

A slap rang out against the old man’s cheek. His cap fell to the floor, his coffee spilled. The waitress let out a muffled scream; a mother covered her child’s eyes. The biker chuckled, “You should’ve stayed where you were, soldier.” A