beside a county road outside Villaverde, and he was the civil engineer overseeing drainage improvements for a small bridge project farther uphill. We both arrived early. I had black coffee in a dented stainless thermos. He had black coffee in a newer thermos that he would later deny was expensive. I was unloading root-bound native grasses from the back of my truck when he walked over. He picked up two containers. “I can carry those,” I told him. ” He kept walking. ” That was the first thing Marcos ever said to
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