The restaurant that was mankind’s grave appeared with little life. In fact, it was full of death. Inside was one small room with a bar, a few tables against the window, and a small broken TV in the corner, covered in cobwebs. The smell of blood leaked from the floorboards. Cracks in the paint crept up the wall as if something was obscured by the walls. It remained rigidly on the edge of the Dixon River. Whispers of running water outside thundered across the banks of the river and shook the walls of the building. Other than that—dead silence.
A man stomped into the restaurant with his wife, both drenched from head-to-toe in ego and glamour. Their complexion was wrinkled and aged, which suggested them both being in their mid 70’s. They wore luxurious grey hair, and were concealed in the finest of jewelry. Though they were both short, the couple struck everyone as ambitious. They were dressed in all black. Not a kind of light black worn at a wedding, but a  sickly shade that one would wear to a funeral. The wife’s dress flew like a flag, following her in the slight breeze while the husbands suit was clearly too big and draped loosely over his body. They tried to maintain power with every forceful step they took. They both ordered attention as they approached the desk.
“Table for two, by the window,” he demanded.
She stopped and turned, astonished with his tone. “Whatever you say your majesty,” she replied.
“What was that?,” his eyes widened with embarrassment.
She ignored his response. “Right this way,” her face forged a smile and she led the king and queen to their seat. “Why would such a wealthy couple come to a dump like this,” she thought.
The couple sat down and searched their menus for anything that would satisfy them. The man clearly made his decision by tossing the menu back on the table carelessly. He looked outside to the path of shimmering water that held the sanity of the restaurant together. The river ran itself in between the land, moving everything in its contents further west of the restaurant. The man became hypnotized by the river, lost in it’s clear blue water until his eye suddenly caught a person sitting by the bank. A man, waiting for his aspiration that was “certain” to be reached. It was a fisherman, who was hidden in so much garbage and foliage that it almost made this grotesque appearance a part of him. He was not much younger than the man in the restaurant, in fact they had many resemblances, but yet somehow, nothing between them was the same. The fisherman was patient in his endeavor for food or whatever it was that he most desired. The poor man sat by the river waiting for a chance that was given, waiting for the moment.
"Sir... Sir!" The waitress cut in. She leaned over the table to drag his attention toward her.
“Well it’s about time you came to take my order,” said the man impatiently.
“What will you two have then,” she said as she rolled her eyes.
“I’ll have the fish please,” the wife cut in, trying to ease the tension.
“I’ll have the same,” the man said angrily.
“Alright, your food should be out soon,” said the waitress as she took the menus and left.
Once the waitress was out of sight, the wife turned and scowled at the husband. “Why do you always have to be so rude?!” she whispered loudly.
“What are you talking about?” he replied.
“You were being so disrespectful to that girl. Shes trying hard to—”
“ Who cares! Why are we even here in the first place!” the man said as he pounded his fist on the table.
She stopped herself and stared down to the floor. She smelt the blood and a tear dripped from her cheek on to her dress. “I just wanted to come. . . I figured it was time too. . .We always said we would one day. . .” She turned silent. . .
The value of her words meant nothing to him, nor had it even crossed his thoughts. The man looked back at the fisherman, he looked at the world in its entirety. He forgot about the waitress, forgot about his wife, about his money. He examined the man by the river and his yearn for just one meal, just one chance. A fish swam by his lookout point and so he seized the chance. He cast into the water, attempting to lodge the hook in the mouth of the fish. However it had slipped through the lethality of the hook and swam west into its new life, into it's inevitable death. He trudged out of the river and shook as much of the water off of his boots as he could. The ends of his mouth sunk to the bottom of his face and his predator-like eyes turned delicate. He was always a nice man, always holding his morals over his own success. Humble, compassionate, all words that could fairly describe, but they were all meaningless. He was silent. . . His chance was gone and he remained the poor man that he was meant to be.
A cloud had slowly drifted over the river and both of the men became fascinated with an odd feeling within them. They stared higher and higher into the sky. The fisherman yearned to be prosperous, to be able to live in a secure lifestyle. While the rich man, in agreement, plead for a more extravagant life as well. Sadly, they asked too much of the apocryphal figure above them. The river would undoubtedly diverge life from such a profound idea. It flows how it is meant to and will always control the time and purpose of everyone's life that is centered around it.
The waitress set the couples meals down on the table—pure immorality. The fisherman wasted his days trying to catch this fish, one he would likely never catch. While inside, the man effortlessly attained his fish on a silver platter. The injustice was heartbreaking, but yet none of it mattered. Both men ended up in the same place in the very end. Their differences never affected their outcomes. Why would any aspect or decision from their previous life would matter after they had died? They contemplated the question for long after, and in the end, they might have figured out that none of it mattered.
The man was silent. . . Everyone was silent. . . Dead silent. . . Sure enough, the bodies were seen in the river not long after. Everyone eventually made their way to the restaurant when their time had come. Once they had wandered in, death himself would drown them in the river, and send them to whatever came next. All of it was intriguing, the way everyone drifted west after their death. The way they drowned in the river, their bodies floating lifelessly with the current forever.