He'd taken a seat on the railing as he often did. The sounds of the city were helping him think.
When she spoke he turned to her, then wiped the blood of his lips with the back of his hand. He wasn't sure what to say so he turned back, finished the bowl and then turned around. He rose and set the bowl on his idol. "You are never far from my mind. Both good and bad I imagine." With a sigh he leaned against the railing.
He took a knife and started toying with it. He'd never been good with social things. This awkwardness was beyond him and he saw no way out of it.