My seat was an old chair with patterned upholstery that I shared with a semi folded blanket and a stuffed monkey. The desk to my right was black and had emerald knobs on the drawers. It reminded me of Oz.
The record player blasted Janis Joplin. It seemed fitting.
“I’m glad you’re around more often.”
Whiskey soothed my throat and I put my arm around the monkey.