Come very close to calling things
off. This childish out of my
mouth. It gets to me after I’m
reassured glorious, e.g., getting
out of Arkansas or finally talking
Paris. Who knew it was like this?
I mean I can’t remember the bad
stuff. Or anything, mostly. So I
set up a drink date at my place,
playing Cupid (or his lusty
little brother). Back to the
28th floor. Back to left-
overs and fiasco. Watch
one more scary movie
for fake horror.
