The sun rose majestically, lighting the sky up with its incandescence. That was inevitable, he said sipping his coffee. She got up and left.

He asked the help to put a laugh track on his voice mail. To relive past glories. To make the calls from the bill collectors funny for once.

He says, One man’s treasure is another man’s junk, and she says, Are you gay? and he’s half way around the world before he gets the question.

The closet is full but he feels as if he has nothing to wear. You’re such a dandy, she says sleepily from bed. But he’s not. He’s just vain.

The fight. Everyone talks about it. There is lore. But mostly everyone talks about the pee. And the cameras. And how awesome the website was.

He kissed her and made a face and she said, You look like you kissed a lemon, and he thought and thought this through. And he couldn’t move.

The sand warmed his feet and the chill he’d left behind left him. The ocean smelled of life. Of hope. Until his wife noticed the cabana boy.