[He leans against the counter and watches her eat. He recognizes all the symptoms, all those old wounds and after a moment he looks away. There's light coming in from the window, and although he can see the damned billboard past the glass, he focuses on the sun.]
It's coming. It'll be slow going, but we aren't in the market for miracles.
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It's coming. It'll be slow going, but we aren't in the market for miracles.