“You can eat,” she said.
“When they let me,” I said.
I put down the second breakfast and wiped my plate with bread, and she refilled my cup.
Then she stood beside me holding the pot. I was looking into my wallet. “Can you make it?” she said gently.
It seemed a long time since I’d heard anyone speak gently.
“Just about,” I said.
She set the pot on the heater and came back over. She sat herself down across from me. You could tell it felt good for her to get off her feet. I put down my wallet.
“Looks like you work with your hands,” she said.
I looked down at them myself. That when I noticed it, a dark gold hair on the sleeve of my jacket.
She watched me pick it off and drop it on the floor.
“What do you need done?” I said.
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