The stunned silence, anticipated or not stretched on until the ashes dropped from the tip of the deeply inhaled cigarette. One could almost imagine the sizzle before they fell. Outside of my palm swiped heavily across my forehead, cool and slightly oily. The months long binge of hedonistic revelry had done my health no good. I stared into the night standing at the window space, as though distracted, unaffected by the palpable need radiating through the room. The represented delegation of local leaders stood uneasily, eyes seemingly hollowed out with their fear and dread. Studying the night, half smirked bravado fell into the room rather than pouring out in beams of confidence. How could they keep asking!? When did a hero get to stop with continuous proofs? It was going to be a long night, the imported fine scotch and tray of loose MMDA beckoned with promises of easier answers and lessened, higher musings. Nope. They need another patsy this time..