Зима тревоги нашей

           "WhenIheardit,Iwassurprised,"Morphsaid.Hepickedatthepaperonthesugarcube.Hisnailswerepolished."Yougetanideaandthenit’sfixedandyouthinkit’strue.Givesyouaturnwhenit’snot."

           "Idon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout."

           "IguessIdon’teither.Goddamthesewrappers.Whycan’ttheyjustputitlooseinabowl?"

           "Maybebecausepeoplemightusemore."

           "Iguessso.Iknewaguyoncelivedonsugarforawhile.He’dgointheAutomat.Tencentsforacupofcoffee,drinkhalf,fillitupwithsugar.Atleasthedidn’tstarvetodeath."

           Asusual,Iwonderedifthatguywasn’tMorph—astrangeone,tough,agelessmanwithamanicure.Ithinkhewasafairlywell-educatedman,butonlybecauseofhisprocesses,histechniqueofthinking.Hiseruditionhidinademi-worlddialect,alanguageofthebright,hard,brassyilliterate."Isthatwhyyouuseonelumpofsugar?"Iasked.

           Hegrinned."Everybody’sgotatheory,"hesaid."Idon’tcarehowbeataguyis,he’llhaveatheorywhyhe’sbeat.Atheorycanleadyoudownthegardenpath’causeyou’llfollowitinspiteofroadsigns.Iguessthat’swhatfooledmeaboutyourboss."

           Ihadn’thadcoffeeawayfromhomeinalongtime.Itwasn’tverygood.Itdidn’ttastelikecoffeeatallbutitwashot,andIspilledsomeonmyshirt,soIknowitwasalsobrown.

           "IguessIdon’tknowwhatyoumean."

           "IbeentryingtotrackwhereIgottheidea.Iguessit’sbecausehesayshe’sbeenherefortyyears.