THEN WHO’S THREE STOOLS DOWN? Ep.#3

[Intro — sparse acoustic, low Telecaster pulse] Tuesday. 7:10. He said same stool. Same time. So I went. [Verse 1] Mabel saw me coming, didn’t say a word Reached for the coffee, then remembered I don’t drink it Earl looked up from the register Like maybe he’d been waiting too And there he was Gray wool coat Yesterday’s paper Three stools down Same as always Which made the man walking through the door a little inconvenient [Verse 2] He took the stool beside me Looking mighty pleased with the things he knew Ghosts and trucks and loaded dice Seventeen years and state lines too He leaned back easy like he’d won some bet Like Tuesday had finally settled it I looked at Mabel Then down the counter And pointed three seats over— “Then who’s that?” [Chorus] You said you were the ghost I never said you were You walked into the story And recognized every word Put yourself inside the gray coat Put your hands around the past But there’s one little problem You answered awful fast Because you’re sitting right here And he’s sitting right there So tell me— Which one of you was never there? [Instrumental — restrained fiddle, low electric guitar] [Verse 3] The man three stools over never raised his head Just turned one page like he hadn’t heard what I said Mabel backed slowly toward the coffee machine Earl went quiet behind the register The man beside me finally looked his way That little grin disappeared from his face Gray coat folded his paper once Set it neatly beside his cup Then looked straight past me At him And said, “You came back.” [Bridge — everything drops except a low pulse] Nobody moved. I watched one man watch the other. One looked like he’d seen a ghost. The other looked like he’d been expecting one. And suddenly I wasn’t the one with questions. [Final Chorus — darker, fuller] You said you were the ghost Maybe you were right But there’s a man three stools away who’s been here every Tuesday night You knew the truck You knew the words You knew the writing too I only have one question left— How the hell did he know you? [Hard stop] [Outro — nearly spoken] The man beside me stood first. Dropped a dollar by his cup. Looked at me and smiled. “Wrong diner?” I shrugged. “Wasn’t my ghost.” He turned toward the door. Behind us, a chair scraped. I looked back. Empty stool. Coffee still hot. Yesterday’s paper. One sentence in blue ink: “You came back.” I flipped it over. “He didn’t.” The bell above the door rang. I ran outside. No truck. No footsteps. Nobody. Just Mabel behind me saying, “Jenna?” I didn’t turn around. Not this time. [Single guitar note]