Finch tells me: The man sits at the table against the wall, the one that always fills last because it is under the air conditioning vent, and is almost always either too hot or too cold, depending on the season of the year. He is unremarkable to look at–black-rimmed glasses, black jeans, a brown leather […]

The old man raised his empty glass in the direction of the barman, and in a few moments, the waitress had brought him another beer. “Put it on me tab, love,” he said, his Scouse accent standing out like a naked man in the Sistine Chapel, Iowa being as far from Merseyside as to be […]