He sits across from me at the head of the table, shoveling a forkful of food into his mouth. I made ramen, mixed with chunks of thick-cut ham, scrambled eggs, and fried onions. It’s cheap but everyone enjoys it. Brian smiles at me as he twists the fork in his bowl, entangling a wad of noodles between the tines. I don’t feel so different than the ramen.
