Rain slanted across my windshield as I pulled into Bayview Village. I parked at the edge of the lot. A narrow patch of grass and trees separated my car from the road.
“Well, that’s it for that contract,” I muttered.
I opened the window and lit a cigar. A cigar meant celebration, but I didn’t know if this success I’d enjoyed with this particular contract was something I wanted to celebrate. I didn’t know what to feel.

I’d spent most of my career in and out of schools. The nomadic nature of spec...