Bottle of whiskey hidden in a dirty, over-sized pack. I sit at the Butterfly drinking an Earl Grey, over-steeped and bitter. Accompanied with literary discoveries in the French language. A man in a suit jacket and jeans buys his son a small treat. They have run out of teapots and teacups. / An old painter sits down across the table. “Young man, I am addressing you now.” He shake-ily writes his name and number on an unused 3x5 and through closed eyes, recalls his meeting of Edward Hopper. Stern like a Prussian officer from World War One with his helmet off. Unforgettable.