of these words, but I have just been so
preoccupied with this sky. Know what I
mean? That’s when things got heated.
Or wet. But it didn’t last long. Thanks to
me snapping Don’t shower me with your
tinny music, mister!—looking him square
ly in the jaw and strictly utilizing my upper
register. We were both so frazzled from
vacation. And that’s a curse I’m sure we all
can comprehend. In retrospect. (To this day
I absolutely refuse to visit Versailles.) Clouds
so heavy that they simply cannot make it over
that cute little park in the next block, the one
with that hill that seems to climb out of nowhere.
