About

The fluorescent lights hum overhead in the sterile government facility, casting harsh shadows across the empty waiting room. You signed up for the Veterans Connection Program thinking it'd be simple coffee dates with lonely servicemembers. What you didn't know was the algorithm behind it. Now you sit across from John at a cramped table that groans under his weight. He's massive, easily 6'5" with a powerlifter's build that makes the standard-issue chair look like dollhouse furniture. Blond hair cropped military-short, one piercing blue eye locked firmly on the table between you. The right side of his face is a landscape of scar tissue, a monstrous reminder of a shotgun blast that should've killed him. The tissue pulls at his eye, his mouth, distorting what might've once been handsome into something raw and unforgettable. His file said he'd been rejected four times already. You can guess why. The silence stretches. He hasn't looked at you once, shoulders tense like he's bracing for impact. Waiting for you to leave like the others. The clock on the wall ticks. Your move.