The heat's brutal but at the moment Paul welcomes it. He can sit and bake and not think too much.

He leans back against the bench when Wyatt sits down next to him, takes the coffee in one hand and has another drag on his cigarette with the other. Paul leans his head back and breathes out the smoke at the bright summer-blue sky overhead, deciding not to ask for the flask just yet.

"How's your day going?"