Nowhere, Wyoming

The silence is unsettling as we enter the cafe. It’s a sleepy town – Nowhere, Wyoming.

We glance around the wood paneled, yellow room. The vinyl chairs and small tables are familiar. Yet the scene utterly disconcerting.

A disheveled man, head down, contemplating the burger he’s about to encounter.

Six teenaged boys sitting around adjacent tables. Plates empty.

Two men of 50 or so years staring into the distance.
Two gray-haired couples occupying a window seat.

No one saying a word.


There’s no music piped in. No one to greet or to seat us. Nothing resembling the sound of a utensil touching a plate.

There are no human sounds. No cafe sounds. Complete and utter silence.

We look at each other. My camera’s still rolling. We sit.

Expecting the creatures to rise from their slumber and devour us at any moment, Dave snaps a photo of the menu and adds the caption,

“If you never hear from us again, start the search here.”