On the way home, Rex stopped by a modest but classy roadside diner—a nondescript little place tucked between a salon and an old bookstore. The interior was simple, the lighting warm and the smell of roasted lamb and garlic rice drifting through the air. He ordered a sizzling steak platter with mashed potatoes and caramelized vegetables.
It was surprisingly well-cooked—juicy, flavorful, and satisfying. The service was average, but he didn't mind. It wasn't five-star fine dining, but for a quick dinner, it hit the spot.
By the time he finished, the sky had begun its slow descent into dusk. Golden-orange hues stretched across the skyline, casting long shadows through the windshield as he drove. The city, far from winding down, was coming alive. Cars honked in distant traffic, lights flickered on in apartments and shops, and crowds emerged like ants from unseen holes. The noise, the motion—it all surged like a slumbering beast waking for its true hunt.
