Jahan and Bronte
<p>Bronte met him at the Red Cross. She was there to donate blood, same as he was there to do. She was the first to talk to him, asking him if the coffee machine was working. He looked stunned as if he was awakened from a dream, shrugged to mean that he doesn’t know. The coffee machine was obviously broken — she poked the console with her freshly manicured fingers.</p>
<p>He wanted to be of help. For himself he used the tea bag to avoid tinkering with the machine. He would have preferred real coffee though. He took a desultory sip. His arm was aching where the needle pierced — he scratched around the bandage and when it proved unsatisfactory, let his fingers crawl under the bud of cotton.</p>
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