The cups were gone.
But the sign stayed.
Eli passed away six weeks later.
Peacefully.
At home.
Surrounded by people who loved him.
At his memorial, something unexpected happened.
Motorcycles lined the street.
Dozens of them.
The same bikers. More than before.
On a small table near Eli’s photo sat a familiar piece of cardboard.
LEMONADE
50¢
And underneath:
“I just want to talk.”
Because sometimes, that’s all anyone really wants.