Jim Butcher Quote
The campus police officer folded his hands and stared at me from across the table. Coffee? What flavor is it? I asked. He was in his forties, a big, solid man with bags under his calm, wary eyes, and his name tag read dean. It’s coffee-flavored coffee. No mocha? Fuck mocha. Thank God, I said. Black.
Jim Butcher
The campus police officer folded his hands and stared at me from across the table. Coffee? What flavor is it? I asked. He was in his forties, a big, solid man with bags under his calm, wary eyes, and his name tag read dean. It’s coffee-flavored coffee. No mocha? Fuck mocha. Thank God, I said. Black.
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