Satchel wiped his mouth, stood up from the bar and pulled the hundred dollar bill from his pocket. He smoothed and straightened it out carefully. He drained the last of his coffee and set the mug down on the one hundred dollar bill.
"Thank you, m'am," he called, and headed for the exit. The bell on the door rang out as he left.
At the truck, Satchel stood and looked up at the sun starting to climb over the buildings. It was going to be a beautiful day.
