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A
moment
passed
as
he
assembled
his
thoughts
.
"
You
know
how
everyone
enjoys
different
flavors
?
"
he
began
.
"
Some
people
love
chocolate
ice
cream
,
others
prefer
strawberry
?
"
I
nodded
.
"
Sorry
about
the
food
analogy
-
I
couldn
’
t
think
of
another
way
to
explain
.
"
I
smiled
.
He
smiled
ruefully
back
.
"
You
see
,
every
person
smells
different
,
has
a
different
essence
.
If
you
locked
an
alcoholic
in
a
room
full
of
stale
beer
,
he
’
d
gladly
drink
it
.
But
he
could
resist
,
if
he
wished
to
,
if
he
were
a
recovering
alcoholic
.
Now
let
’
s
say
you
placed
in
that
room
a
glass
of
hundred
-
year
-
old
brandy
,
the
rarest
,
finest
cognac
-
and
filled
the
room
with
its
warm
aroma
-
how
do
you
think
he
would
fare
then
?
"
We
sat
silently
,
looking
into
each
other
’
s
eyes
-
trying
to
read
each
other
’
s
thoughts
.
He
broke
the
silence
first
.
"
Maybe
that
’
s
not
the
right
comparison
.
Maybe
it
would
be
too
easy
to
turn
down
the
brandy
.
Perhaps
I
should
have
made
our
alcoholic
a
heroin
addict
instead
.
"
"
So
what
you
’
re
saying
is
,
I
’
m
your
brand
of
heroin
?
"
I
teased
,
trying
to
lighten
the
mood
.
