He shifts his hair back as he takes a seat. "Stroud... Stroud... Oh! I heard of your book. Didn't read it, sorry. But I've heard of you." He smiles. "Mostly if I read nonfiction, it's meant to make me angry and confused, not uplifted."

"So I see you've got an angel or something somewhere in your past, huh." He says, pursing his lips at the drawing. "Looks like a kid. A kid angel in sunglasses..." He ponders.