"It's too late." Joe sipped his almost-cool coffee, grimaced and sat it back on the sunny windowsill. He stared out, watching kids play across the street in their yard. "I'm a failed farmer with nothin' but a half-feral cat." He cast about, looking for Tux. Not finding him in the small room, he shrugged. "Somewhere."
Bill snorted. "So, start over. You're just, what? Fifty-five? That's not too old."
"Fifty-two, thank you very much." Forgetting, he took another drink of that coffee. This t