”“Won’t you come in ... I just poured coffee.” I stuck out my hand, “Karen Post.”He shook, took off his hat and slapped dust from his jean....He came in ... sat down at the table ... took up his cup and made an exploratory sip. His face brightened.“What did you put in this?”“Fresh ground coffee.”“Tastes like chocolate ... sweet chocolate. Sugar?”“Just Coffee.”This is very good,” he said. “You gotta tell my wife how you make coffee.”“Driveway.”“I’m betting the ruts are so deep they cast a shadow. He looked outside at the scenery passing by. The tracks were running through farm country. He loved the scenes from the countryside – green fields as far as the eye could see, dotted with white farm houses and old red, painted barns beside towering, dingy grayish white silos.It was the time of year when the crops had recently burst through the soil. They seemed to reach for the sky with the elation of new life. Dave mused that he had a newfound sense of the same sort of elation. Tiffany was the. More

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