Date: 2010-09-25 03:47 am (UTC)
Lucien seems fine with walking as we drink, and he’s nice enough to buy the coffee. That’s one more thing I owe this man, though, and it’s itching me that the only way I can see to pay him back is to buy his drinks if he ever comes into the bar when I’m working. No fun in that, and money besides.

He asks me why I came here, and I take a drink to give myself time to think of something to say that won’t make him ask more questions. The coffee’s hot and strong, with no milk or sugar to muck it up. In the end, though, all I can think to say to him is what I said before to Glass. “It was the next place on the road big enough to give work to a stranger. Not sure how long I’ll be here. Hoping for a better year than the last one.” I’m not sure how there could be a worse one, though. Have get this conversation off me, so I ask him, “Do you have family here, or were they just needing a doctor in town?” Want to say something about how he’s good with his hands, or provides all kinds of services, some kind of joke, but I don’t want him to take offense.
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