Clay lit a cigarette that was not his. Asked for it, the man gave it to him. The first drag made him dizzy, not from nicotine but from the realization that some stranger had seen him more accurately than most people had in months.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“Because my wife died six years ago and since then I drink my coffee here every morning instead of at home, so I don’t talk to the wall by myself.”