Chapter 9

“What’s on your mind, boss?” he asks.

I’ve never asked Meryl why he makes this little corner home instead of finding a shelter or remembering where home is. Nor have I inquired as to the whereabouts of his other eye. I just bring him half a sandwich, a small container of fruit salad, and a hot tea, and hope that’s enough to supplement what he manages to find otherwise. We don’t talk a lot, though I managed to scrounge out his name somewhere along the line. Of the conversations that we do have, the weather usually takes forefront, with the occasional burst of disgusted rant regarding our fine city’s politicians. I will admit, we’ve both had our share of bad things to say about those guys, although his rants tend to get a little more far-fetched than mine. As far as I know, our mayor is not an actualalien spawn. My point being, I don’t usually expect a heart-to-heart. He’s surprised me.

“Not a thing that isn’t there usually, Meryl. Why do you ask?”