I hold the cup in both hands, my palms lined with little passageways of sweat, of nervousness, of desert warmth and poor circulation. I… — I hold the cup in both hands, my palms lined with little passageways of sweat, of nervousness, of desert warmth and poor circulation. I look at the woman who sits across from me. I don’t remember where she came from, or how we came to be sitting here, but here…