I’m leaving, he said. Not sure where. Flip a coin, I guess.

Aren’t you getting too old for this? she asked. There’s only so much a body can take. In and out of shelters. Living like a vagabond. How much money you got?

A little.

A hundred? Two hundred?

About five. Depends on the bus ticket.

She shook her head, lit a cigarette. I thought this would be your final resting place, she said. And here you go again. Wandering off to nowhere, she offered a smoke to him. She lit it. He nodded.  I give up. Do me a favor. Don’t come back. You hear me? Can’t take it anymore.

At least I’m telling you. Could’ve just taken off in the middle of the night.

I suppose. She paused. Got a quarter on you?

Yeah.

Well…flip that thing.