for a moment julia could not anything wxcept his own heartbeat

tiny cups.”

She smiled faintly. “I made normal coffee too.”

They sat at a stone table under a jacaranda tree. Purple flowers had fallen across the ground like torn paper. For a while, they spoke about nothing important. The weather. The workshop. Don Chuy’s bad temper. A book she had lent him months ago that he had pretended not to like and secretly continue reading …