Ben Crater decided to treat himself to breakfast while on business in the very small town of Libby. Not that he couldn't cook. As a matter of fact, he considered himself a damn good one. But this morning he'd felt a little lazy and what the hell. He was going out anyway.
He pulled into his driveway, still in a haze of comfort from the good food and the few people who'd stopped to chat with him in his booth. He'd made few friends since moving here and didn't usually encourage casual visits. It wasn't just that he was antisocial, although many would call him that. He just had secrets that were nobody's business but his own. That was the primary reason he'd settled here and bought this isolated property.
Still, once in a while he needed the sound of a human voice.
I need to get married. This solitary stuff has turned out to be bullshit.
Oh yeah? Forget that dumb idea.