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"
After
the
war
…
"
Rita
sounded
just
a
little
sad
.
"
Hey
,
this
war
will
be
over
someday
.
No
doubt
about
it
.
You
and
I
’
ll
see
to
that
.
"
"
You
’
re
right
.
I
’
m
sure
you
will
.
"
Rita
took
the
ground
beans
and
spread
them
on
the
cloth
covering
the
funnel
.
"
You
have
to
steam
them
first
.
"
"
Oh
yeah
?
"
"
Completely
changes
the
flavor
.
Something
an
old
friend
once
taught
me
.
Don
’
t
know
how
it
works
,
but
he
was
right
.
"
She
moistened
the
freshly
ground
beans
with
a
little
not
-
quite
boiling
water
.
Cream
-
colored
bubbles
hissed
to
life
where
the
water
touched
the
grounds
.
A
striking
aroma
woven
of
threads
bitter
,
sweet
,
and
sour
filled
the
air
surrounding
the
table
.
"
Still
smell
weird
?
"
"
It
smells
wonderful
.
"
Using
a
circular
motion
,
Rita
carefully
poured
in
the
water
.
Drop
by
drop
,
a
glistening
brown
liquid
began
filling
the
steel
mug
waiting
beneath
.
A
thin
line
of
steam
had
begun
to
rise
from
the
mug
when
an
earsplitting
sound
pierced
the
thick
walls
and
blast
-
hardened
glass
of
the
Sky
Lounge
.
The
tile
floor
shook
.
Rita
and
I
were
on
the
ground
in
a
heartbeat
.
Our
eyes
met
.
