Lately, what is possible and what impossible seem confused. The world of possible things and the world of impossible things have collided and every thing in those worlds are jumbled together.

I see V standing at the window of our second story Paris hotel room looking down into the street on a summer night. I sit at a small table where we have been drinking wine and eating cheese. She turns from the window, looks into my eyes, and smiles. “Are you ready to got out?” she says.

This event must surely be one of the possible things. The world would not make sense if it was not.

Published in: on March 3, 2008 at 2:04 pm  Leave a Comment  

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