For the present I have no idea what I might invent, but if I start writing, an idea will come to me.

If on Winter’s Night a Traveler, Italo Calvino

The idea I always have is V.

I was not supposed to see her last night. I was smoking a cigarette on the street as she walked towards me, taking me by surprise. I won the jackpot one more night. We stayed up late.

Now, I drink a large espresso and wonder why the time with her last night passed in a heartbeat. Does some unexplained force in the universe expand and contract time to bedevil me?

Published in: on March 12, 2008 at 11:31 am  Leave a Comment  

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