AR End

The building still stands, but it stands empty. The paint isn't fading and the shingle still hangs. The windows aren't boarded up and the door is dusty, but the glass hasn't broken. It still stands, but it stands empty. Much like the town it once served. People have cleared out. They've fled for more prosperous areas. And the American Restaurant still stands to remind what we once were, what we once had, and what we once valued.

It's in danger. No one can afford it. At least, no one who wants it. The building needs some work, but it could be a restaurant again. Locals would come by. The town would have an alternative to the corporate chains that popped up at the outskirts, and in the center. We would have something. It would be our own. It would be local history and a legacy. It would be a place where everyone knows your name, and more importantly, they know how you take your coffee. They know you. If you care to show up. If you care to claim them.