He bent down and picked his nose. That was discreet, he thought. And the waitress came over to take his order. I saw what you did, she said.

I played some ball with the guys. We drank beer afterward. I told a story about my childhood. I started to cry. And the guys left me. Alone.

The work out was done and he changed into his swimming trunks and admired himself in the mirror and then he suffered a heart attack and died.

When we were kids we hung around in dark basements, smoking dope, lost in giggles. And we turned out alright, I laugh. To a wall of silence.

The sun is glorious. He calls and says, What are you doing? She stares into the sun until she can’t see. I’m slowly going blind, she replies.