He still had his canteen. If he found water, the canteen would carry him through.Lou's strength seemed to increase even as each morsel passed his lips... The moisture did the most good. His blistered, cracked lips soaked up every drop they could. His swollen tongue softened. He even had enough saliva now to swallow whole bites of the cooked meat. Every bite held a taste of pure exultation. He might never admit how close he had come to giving up, but he could feel confidence in his own survival. I handed it to her and poured her a tall glass of water along with it. Then I fixed my own plate and sat beside her. We ate, filling the room with munching and moaning: yes, it was that good. ‘Your right,’ I sighed, ‘I didn’t cook this. It tasted amazing. I must be delusional.’ ‘Agreed, you’re crazy,’ she said as I took our clean plates, ‘do crazy people have cable? Or is that a sane people thing?’ She grabbed her beer and headed for the Japanese Katatsu–a Japanese low lying table that has a. More

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