Outside the cafe, the cowboy sits by himself. The wide brim of his dusty ivory hat highlights the slim bones of his face, the lean line of his angular build. He eats his sandwich with determination, one bite following right after the other.
The troop of road bikers nearby seem oblivious to his discomfort. Decked out in their gaudy yellow and blue spandex, they sprawl across the other six tables. But the cowboy keeps his eyes moving, takes in first the street and then the sidewalk, a long habit of outdoor work, of herding cattle far from the concrete and exhaust-tinged confines of the city.
He wants to get his lunch eaten, see Ellie, and get this business done and over with.
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