Americans were living longer before the pandemic. You see yourself among them and then you won’t.

Parking spaces had a word with you. Children are the future. Let them stay distracted, I'll snoop around.

Every atmosphere has pivots. Wait for the forthcoming eel and fish heads. They’re for you.
That hurt. Oh, thank you. I don't deserve you.
Literally or latterly? I wish it were that simple. The orphaned often become scene-makers or martial artists, music critics or teachers. The last stage of brain fever is nothing if not ambiguous; today you'll enjoy experimenting on air pressure around trees. Feckless and now liberal, that man with a verge leaves faint, barely perceivable marks with his ropes, pulleys, shadows — just to find himself.

Post-cogency, you still following that? What's so strong about sadness, the real overhead for what party in sleep?

I'm so attritional about what's turned you into nothing.