The next evening, Monday, Doug aimlessly stares out the front window of Talula’s restaurant while drinking a coffee in solitude. Angela taking notice as business slows down, approaches him and unassumingly inquires, “What’s on your mind, Doug?”

He ignores her, completely lost in a daze, staring into the black void of night beyond the window.

“Earth to Doug, are you there?” asks Angela in a slightly raised voice.

He snaps out of his transfixed state and replies, “I’m sorry, I was lost in thought.”

Angela sits on the bench across the table from him. She stares and inquires, “What’s wrong? Spill it.”

Doug rubs his eyes, shakes his head and answers, “I’m just stressed about the project. There is so much riding on it.&rdquo...

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