It's evening, one of those gray water-color washes, like liquid dust.

I didn't much like it, this grudge-holding against the past.

How furious she must be, now that she's been taken at her word.

Gravity works in your life, the notion of free will works in your life, however problematic it may at times be.

I am not your justification for existence.

I felt white, drained of blood, cared for, purified. Peaceful.

Walter turned on the radio: electric violins wailing, twisted romance, the four-square beat of heartbreak. Trite suffering, but suffering nonetheless. The entertainment business. What voyeurs we have all become.