Malcolm Bright

"You know technically we need salt to live, right?" Now that it was morning, he could stand a couple of creams in his coffee, each torn open and poured in before being stacked inside each other and discarded.

"Smart guy like you, I'da figured that would have been something you already worked out. Tests or something. Kinda surprised you haven't wasted away to nothing. Doesn't make sense, that's all."

And he accepted that. Not everything had an answer, he knew that better than he should.

"But thank you for caring about my car. You gotta puke, you tell me, there's plenty of shoulder that isn't going to linger after you're back up in New York."