“What kind of coffee should we get?” Sonya asked. Rod wasn’t paying her any attention.
“Rod?” he was staring off into space.
“Rod!”He jumped, like a sleeper waking from a dream.
“What?” he took a deep breath, as if he had been submerged in cold water.
“You okay?” Sonya placed a hand on his shoulder. He turned away from her, as slow version of an angry twist.
“I’m fine.” he croaked. “What did you ask me?”
“Are you sure?” he insisted he was fine. “All right. What coffee roast should we get? The French or the Blonde?”
“Can’t have both, can we?” he joked, a dead smile on his face. “Can’t have the french blonde?”
“No such thing in the coffee world.” Sonya grinned. His eyes were distand, his heart not fully invested in the joke or the moment.
“The french is fine.”
I notice that this is very white room, but I wanted it to be character focused and driven. I’m working on white room skills, now. How to describe the setting without going full Moby Dick on it.