It was a real whale, a photograph of a real whale. I looked into its tiny wise eye and wondered where that eye was now. Was it alive and swimming, or had it died long ago, or was it dying now, right this second? When a whale dies, it falls down through the ocean slowly, over the course of a day. All the other fish see it fall, like a giant statue, like a building, but slowly, slowly.

He seemed to be waiting for me to move forward. Weren't we all.

People tend to hold on to their first impressions - that's why those first descriptions can be so important. You don't even necessarily look at people that carefully after a while; you just hold on to that early impression.

I nodded, pretending I was relaxed. I watched the sunlight sparkling on the water and practiced mind-body integration for a few seconds by quietly hyperventilating.

It would require constant vigilance to not replace each person with my own fictional version of them.

I'm not a cinephile. My films don't reference films. I'm more interested in rhythm and feeling.

I really did not feel okay about any of this, and there was really nothing I could do about any of it.