Everything was vivid for a longish moment. The clock tower braised by evening flame. Her eyes, gleaming like an ocelot's, drinking at dusk, at the far shore of the table, which stood between you. Then the intervening days began to char that canvas, starting at its ends.

You wake up every morning and find some ash falling from your eyelids.

2004:01:06 20:00 Atlanta

"You shall meet old friends soon", said a thin strip of paper that came along with the bill for dinner.

It perhaps forgot, one doesn't meet the same water in a river again.

Are there a few grains left in that bowl?

I reach in and my fingers come out wet. What I thought was rice, is dew soaked with moonlight.