Rudd said: “What time is it.”

“You keep asking,” he said, without glancing down.

“Well I keep wondering.”

“Then maybe you should have brought a watch.”

“I don’t wear watches.”

He still hadn’t glanced down. “It’s a quarter past two.” A beat. “In the afternoon.”

“No it’s not,” Rudd said. The sun was setting. “Stop being an asshole.”

“How would you know, Rudd? Do you have a watch you aren’t telling me about?”

“Asshole,” Rudd said.

“Not much longer now,” he said.

“How would you know?” Rudd said.

“Because you wouldn’t be so nervous about the time if there was a lot of it to go.”

Rudd nodded. “So what time is it, then?”

“Half past two.” A beat. “In the afternoon.”

“Asshole,” Rudd said.

As they stood in silence as the sun set over the horizon, in the distance smoke billowed like a signal, a plume that trailed into the twilight like snake skin.

“You know what comes next?” he said.

“Nope,” Rudd said. “I rarely do.”

“Fair enough,” he said.