Darren rapped lightly on Rob’s door around six-thirty Thursday evening. He heard movement and a few moments later the door opened. Rob stood there, wearing a pair of old but serviceable jeans and nothing else. Darren was surprised to see he was fairly muscular, although much too thin. Both, he figured, had to do with his life on the streets.
“I’m about to fix…well, breakfast, although I can make it more dinner if you want something along those lines.”
“Naw. For you it is breakfast time, despite the hour. I’m good with that. Hell, I slept most of the day so, yeah, breakfast it is. Let me finish dressing and I’ll be right down.”
Darren was in the middle of scrambling eggs when Rob appeared. He had on a sweatshirt and shoes without socks. His hair was combed back, which made him look a lit
