Neil San Francisco — 1985 Faith

It is 2:00 am at Bert’s. Thanatos has left. Jackson and his partner are not at their usual table. Except for two high school kids whispering in a distant corner, Pam and Neil are alone. Pam pours Neil coffee. Over the handle of the sturdy china cup their hands meet.

“This really is dreadful coffee, you know.”

Pam dimples. “We have special ‘terrible-coffee-making classes,’ at Bert’s. It takes a lot of practice to make coffee this bad.”

“Well, you’re real good at it.” Pam giggles.

“I brought you some raisin oatmeal cookies,” Neil says, with absolutely no hope that Pam will taste them, even though he has mixed in memories of a night so sweet, just thinking of it might leave you breathless.

“They look like chocolate chips,” Pamela smiles. “Raisins where chocolate chips should be, are one of the reasons I have issues with faith.”