It's worth asking something. Where was I going? Maybe to the video store, maybe to drive past Laura's house, maybe just for a drive. I was going into this shit, my home, with its hills and lawns and parks. That's where I was going. With its bus routes to New York and the women on the bus with sunglasses who chew their gum at you. Their eyes hide behind big round shades and their teeth shimmer and they hold the New York Times in a roll and they just hold it tightly there.
