Derek came through the open doorway carrying a brown cardboard tray.

He set a plastic cup of apple juice and a paper plate of dry toast on the rolling metal tray table.

Michael tugged at his leather watch strap.

The analog clock on the wall read eight in the morning exactly.

“The front desk says the discharge paperwork will take another hour,” Derek said.

Derek handed Michael a black paper coffee cup.

The dark roast was bitter and completely black, just the way Derek made it at the shop.