We sit across from each other in the busy little barbecue bistro, the used plates laid between us, and I feel a hundred times better if not a little too stuffed. I sort of regret the pie and donuts, but I had a point to make to him and I was in no backing down mood.

The walk here, the food, and the time to silently ponder it all, has brought me down to a more even level of insanity. He’s kept his distance, not touched me, or talked, but let me think, until I had some sense of calm; outwardly at least. The food has almost annihilated my thoughts...