But Ralph clearly didn't think so.
One night in mid-October, I stayed at work past eight. When I walked out of the office building, I saw a red-and-black sports car parked at the entrance. I knew that car all too well.
Ralph was leaning against the car door, his left arm in a cast hanging in front of his chest, his right hand holding an unlit cigarette. He wore a long black trench coat, and his hair was longer than the last time I'd seen him, falling in messy strands across his forehead.
Seeing me come out, he put the cigarette away and straightened up. The streetlight fell across that face that had once made me lose my head. His face had thinned out, his cheekbones more prominent, with dark circles under his eyes.
We stood about ten meters apart, looking at each other. Neither of us s
