He unscrewed the cap of the marinade bottle and placed it on the table, and slowly poured the marinade, with its sweet smell, the lush smell of spices and oils from a town just south of San Sebastian. Nick was done and returned the cap to the bottle and placed the bottle on the table. He licked the marinade from the fingers of his right hand. It is good marinade, he thought, good like this table and this chair that hold me up. It will hold the flavor of the meat. It was the cold time of the year and Nick wore two sweaters for warmth and thought of the town where he stayed for three nights drinking wine with the woman who had cut her hair short like a boy, and Nicked warmed himself with the thoughts of the Spanish nights with the girl. It was good to think warm thoughts in the winter. Nick ate, for he knew the hunters would return at dawn.