“How much longer?” She had asked me.
“I really don’t know.” I had said, and I nearly meant it too.
“Where are the buttons to make the electric locks go?” Someone had called.
“I can’t remember.” My voice yelled back.
“Why do the birds stare into us” spoke a child.
“That is a good question.” I mused.
“There is nothing but fly-fishing and garbage collecting from this junction on to the end of the world” came a voice from the glovebox.
And I dreamed.