Allies and Enemies: Part Three

South Bronx, Morrisania

David sits in a window booth in a small, run-down diner, trying to eat a cold cut without throwing up. It’s not that the food is bad; he can’t tell if it is or not. Everything tastes like cardboard. The problem is that his doctors warned him he needed to stay in the hospital to recover, and his body is sparing no effort to tell him that they were right.

It’s mid-afternoon. There aren’t too many people in the diner, but the ones who are stare at him furtively when they th...