A shrugging gesture. Brian pressed at the corners of his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. His vision wasn’t right. For a second, the woman had seemed to go from blurry to crisp lines, a trick of the eye that reminded him of watching a speaker vibrate when the bass bumped into it. He wondered if it was because of the heat, either radiating from the ground or screwing with his system.

“I don’t know.” He sniffed and refocused on the woman. Where did that accent originate? He thought it was vaguely European but it didn’t sound like the British people he knew, not Holly, not Julianna. “I’d make people more honest, I guess.” The line of questioning caught him off guard. He liked thinking deeply but it wasn’t common for a stranger to be so philosophical off the bat.

Brian cocked his head as he stared at her and took another pull from the cigarette. He was torn between asking what she was doing out there – kind of hypocritical – and engaging the conversation. “I’d probably keep people from sneaking up on me, too.” He smiled. “What about you?”

Less direct sunlight, he predicted. In the waning light he could tell she was paler than him. The wind blew a piece of the cherry onto his arm and he brushed at the gray ashes.