John stepped into Sanjay’s internet café and looked around. He was late getting there but then again, he was never all that punctual, and Mick knew it. The place was busy this morning. People huddled around their laptops and computers, drinking tea and chatting about the storm. On the wall, a TV squawked out the morning news. A radio sang out the latest Indian hit song somewhere. In the back corner, one of Sanjay’s waiters was waiting on tables. It saddened John to think Nabin was gone. The place just didn’t feel right without the over-attentive young Nepali kid who had such a bright smile and future ahead of him. A future stolen away from him by a senseless accident.
He waded through the hodgepodge of scattered tables, catching a waft of seasoned potatoes as he looked for Mick. He found
