‘Do you need anything before heading home? Wine, food, water?’ ‘I should probably get water.’ We pause to check for cars before crossing the street. Right, left, right again. Or is it left, right, left? No, the former. We’re on the other side here. We enter the grocery store. Mambo….

It’s blissfully cool these mornings. My large, loud ceiling fan churns, pulling up the dew-damp air that spills through my windows onto the floor. Somewhere someone has just lighted a fire; I can smell burning—if I had to guess—charcoal. But the kind of charcoal that looks like a completely burnt…