Chapter 7

And for it all, I voiced a silent thanks to my dinner companion. Odd that a man named Gray could bring so much color into my life, at least momentarily, brightening my mood with his mere presence. He’d been a ray of elusive light, as resplendent as that sinking sun I had observed less than an hour earlier, that sliced through the perpetual fog of my existence and provided lush remembrances of a world I so desperately missed. I wanted to tell him so, but how could I do that without sounding like a pathetic loon?

“Well, enough about my work,” I said. “Let’s talk about yours.”

“You interested in music?”

“Definitely, although I know nothing about making it. So what sort of music do you play?”

He wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “Jazz, mostly, although I dabble in just about every genre. And you? Any favorites?”