"That was good weed," she smiled, suddenly ravenous.
James shifted in his seat, digging into the heap of sunny yellow splattered in ketchup.
"You've never talked about your mom before, you know? I don't even know if she's alive. Fuck, I guess I didn't even know you had one. Wait, do you?" he asked all at once while gulping down the breakfast.
"Yeah, her name's Sherry."
"Where is she?"
"Somewhere," she answered, distracted by the slowly oozing sticky, brown syrup she let fall into the crevice of a bacon slice. Just before it began pouring over the browned edge she stuffed it into her mouth.
"You don't know?"