“I do miss this,” Del said, lifting the cup and sampling the aroma for a long moment before taking a sip. He’d stopped by, mostly to assure me that he was all right after his scare in the woods the previous week. “The smell, you know? There’s just something about that smell. The slightly bitter roast of the beans.” “You talk about coffee like some people do about wine,” I said, and sat at the kitchen table across from the closest thing I had to a friend and confidant. In actuality, I realized, he was that. And more. Nearly losing him in a chance encounter with a pair of Layton’s men was, still, difficult to get past. “But we’ll both be missing it for good soon.” Del understood. “Supply getting down there?” I nodded. Between the theft and some spoilage due to cans with bad seals, I had recalculated the length of the time I had before the reality of starvation came knocking.
