Today's OneWord: Track

Scooter was back on track in March, serving pancakes at Bobby Pan's diner just down the street from his grandmother's house. His grandfather's death, though sudden, had inspired him to get off the couch once and for all, most likely leaving a human imprint on the worn down cerulean cushions. He was glad to get away from the smell, too.

Bringing a plate of waffles laden with syrup to the pretty girl at the corner table, Scooter smiled. It was a broken toothed smile, similar to his gramps, the kind of smile they exchanged when they had gone fishing together years earlier.