That promising glimmer on the horizon. The subtle outline of the building next door taking shape was like a ghost, only a hint at first, but something was out there. The faint burned smell of coffee filled the room, the glowing light on the machine a red eye in the darkness. Coffee smelled good when it was brewed, but like crap when it sat there for hours. My old man used to drink it morning, noon, and night. For years I couldn’t walk into a breakfast place without a twist in my stomach at that smell, like a belly punch. Needless to say, I don’t like to be reminded of him. I’ve gotten over it, luckily, and so I poured myself another cup and went back to my window. Resilience is a gift. A person can really adjust to almost anything, I’ve found. Almost. Maybe adjust is the wrong word. Acclimate works better. JULY 5 Ellie slowly stirred her cup of coffee, tasted it, and then added more sugar. Watching the fireworks had been nice the night before, but unfortunately she’d been late—too late for the cookout, but Bryce’s parents had been gracious about that.
