32 Chapter 32: The Autumn People, Part 1

My mind wandered inside the grooves of an oak tabletop magnified through a shot of Jack Daniels. Worms had etched trails into it over the decades, entwining with a carved initial or two. I ran my fingers over the splintered edges, imagining what future archaeologists would read in these hieroglyphics. I hoped it would be something about a boy who loved a girl, or about a busboy who wished herpes upon his boss.

Anything but the two thousand souls I saw burn that morning.

"Goddamn it, Joe, you're doing it again."

I lifted my eyes to meet Samantha's shining gaze. My tongue was pinned between my molars. I must have chewed on it again, an old habit. "Sorry, Sam," I said, "I didn't realize."

"It doesn't bother me," she said with a shrug. She sipped her beer as though it were a chardonnay. "You know we'll be closed tomorrow, and we're three days behind on inventory as it is."