Hello, welcome to the dining car!
Standing before the mute petroglyphs, I found myself conjuring stories about what lay behind each rendering.
I stared at the puzzle pieces, which, like my notes on the play, seemed to have nothing to do with one another.
When I asked about your tea selection, what I really meant to say was Goddamn you’re pretty.
Is this all there is to life? Will I never feel anything grander?
