Just inside the door of the Analog, a couple in matching, studious black-rimmed glasses, tight black jeans, and army surplus jackets sipped coffee and...read. He was reading Tolstoy. For pleasure. Intellectual. She read Still Life with Woodpecker. She typed messages into her phone one-handed without looking. She might have been transcribing the book for all I could tell.Andi turned away from her conversation with the barista and held out a cup of coffee for me. Hot, strong, and black. Cali was. Everyday we would have children sitting on the bank watching us work. Many were from the orphanage, they had lost their parents in this terrible war. Other people stopped by to thank us for helping build their new school and repairing other structures. You couldn’t help hurting inside for these kids. What did they do wrong? They were just kids, for Christ’s sake. They didn’t ask for or deserve this. I don’t know why, but it made me think of Julie’s baby. Did she deserve what she got? I blocked. More

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