Rusty sat in a 24 hour coffee shop, staring out into the rain. His mug of brown sludge, that was barely worth the dollar-fifty he paid, had gone cold, just like everything else in his life. Rusty smiled at the miserable irony of it. He watched the droplets running down the glass window, reflecting florescent lights in tiny curves. It didn't make sense, he had a good life, he had a life many would kill for, and yet, he was restless. He longed for something, not knowing what it was but knowing it consumed him like a gnawing pit inside him.