“What art thou, Faustus, but a man condemned to die?” - Mephistopheles, “Dr. Faustus” There’s a man standing outside the diner. He’s very tall - probably taller than Walker, even, and Walker has to duck to get through certain lower doorways. His hair is cut close to his head on one side and dyed the color of a pomegranate, and on the other, it’s long and straight, the shiny black of a crow’s feathers. He’s wearing a bizarre top that starts below his shoulders, ends above his midriff, but has sleeves that cover him down to his wrists. He’s been standing outside the diner for at least an hour, just leaning up against a telephone pole, occasionally checking something that looks like a pocket watch. No sign of coming inside. He never comes inside. He’s been doing this every day for the past week, and it’s starting to make Landis very, very antsy.
5.1
5.1
5.1
“What art thou, Faustus, but a man condemned to die?” - Mephistopheles, “Dr. Faustus” There’s a man standing outside the diner. He’s very tall - probably taller than Walker, even, and Walker has to duck to get through certain lower doorways. His hair is cut close to his head on one side and dyed the color of a pomegranate, and on the other, it’s long and straight, the shiny black of a crow’s feathers. He’s wearing a bizarre top that starts below his shoulders, ends above his midriff, but has sleeves that cover him down to his wrists. He’s been standing outside the diner for at least an hour, just leaning up against a telephone pole, occasionally checking something that looks like a pocket watch. No sign of coming inside. He never comes inside. He’s been doing this every day for the past week, and it’s starting to make Landis very, very antsy.