The door opened. The man walked out, handed him a sandwich wrapped in foil and a hot cup of coffee. “Take this,” he said. “You showed up. That still counts for something.” Joshua nodded once and took it, more out of reflex than thanks. The man went back in.
He ate slowly, not because he wanted to savor it but because he didn’t know what else to do. Half went to Lucky. The other half sat in his mouth like wet cloth. The warmth of the coffee didn’t reach anything inside him. All he’d done. All he’d hoped. Washed away at night.