June 2000
We had a routine. I'd be five minutes late. A black coffee with two heaping teaspoons of brown sugar and one orange juice would be the order.
Sometimes Jack and Tommy would be with us; sometimes it would just be me and Trent. We'd be at what he once described in an article as "an oasis," the Wild Awakenings coffee shop. We had a lot to cover-- the diatribes of P.J. O'Rourke, old movies (of which he knew so much more about), the latest SF politics, stories about Boston, stories about our families. Inevitably, I'd admit that our talks made me wish I could be more adventurous. He would laugh in a way that I knew he agreed. After one of his comforting hugs, weíd be off to start our days. These mornings filled with the stories that he so easily penned are what I came to cherish. The loving friendship that sprung from them will forever be with me. Thank you, Trent, for sharing yourself and your oasis.