Constant state of rain

In the state of Washington under the constant state of clouds and rain, there lies a small town, surrounded by mountains and forests that seems to swallow it whole.

Rain is endless. So is the clouds that lingered over the mountains for weeks at a time. The roads always damp and the air carries the smell of wet earth and a feeling of rot from within. Even the daylight seems reluctant to reach the town.

By the roadside stood a old crooked wooden sign:

PINEFALL

Half of its paint peeled away. Beaten by the relentless weather of the Pacific Northwest.

A few streets deeper into the town, a weather-beaten poster clung to the wall of an old building. Rain had soaked the paper until parts of it were nearly unreadable.

MISSING

SOFIA CARTER — 17

Beneath the photograph, most of the information had blurred into ink and water.

A television somewhere nearby continued the story.

“…local high school student Sofia Carter, seventeen, has been missing for two weeks…”

The broadcast disappeared beneath the sound of rain.

Broadcast becomes audible again. “Due to the lack of evidence. Police department filed it as a runaway case. Yet some locals believe otherwise. Yet the fate of Sofia Carter remains a mystery.”

Across the street stands a Diner, overlooking a dark parking lot. The diner’s 24-hour sign — TIMBERLINE — glows against the wet, foggy glass.

The interior of the diner is dimly lit and vintage, like it has been frozen in time for decades. It has a smell of coffee and aged wood. In it seats a man with his back hunched his elbows firmly planted on the table like it’s the only thing holding him upright. His messy dark blonde hair dances and shifts with every small motion of his head. While a damp coat hangs limply against the backrest of the wooden chair.

A young waitress approaches him from behind, her steps slow and deliberate, floorboards creaking under the weight of her heels. She leans in without a word and fills up his mug as hot dark coffee hits the ceramic. Her eyes lingers on him for a moment too long at the tired lines around his eyes that don’t match how young he still looks.

His face is cast downwards towards the plate, devouring a burger with an intensity that felt more like a restlessness than hunger.

“Is there anything else you need, Mister?” She asks, putting on a smile.

The man snaps his gaze , cheeks full with half chewed bite. He offers her a slow smirk before taking a heavy swallow clearing his throat. He runs the back of his hand across his mouth. Clearing out the trace of grease from his beard by the edge of his mouth.

“Yeah, That will be all, Thank you.” He says, while his eyes lingers on her face. He continues, “I haven’t seen you around here.”

She met his eyes with a smile, “Yes, it’s been a month since I joined.”

He nods, “And so, how is your Boss treating you?”

She sighs, “He is fine, for the most part. Until he is not. He is a old asshole.”

He laughs, “I would even consider him a wrinkled one at that.” He bursts into a laughter that comes out cracked, harsh and raspy that almost sounds unsettling.

She chuckles with him, “What about you, Mr Lane? Doing overtime again?”

He adds, “Yeah, something like that. I will tell you what-”

His phone vibrates suddenly on the table by his plate, shattering the silence of the diner. He grabs the phone, flashing the waitress an apologetic smile. She nods knowingly, giving him some space as she turns and glides back toward the counter. He flips the phone open and presses it to his ear.

“Boss, we got a job,” a voice crackles through the speaker.