He had walked for days, a survivor, and then like some mirage he saw a bar, and he said, I need a beer, and the bartender said, Who doesn’t?

The sun is glorious today. They step outside, and he complains. You always complain, she sighs. He looks at her. And he complains some more.

He fell. He landed on her shoes, and she moved her feet and said, Watch it. And he stood and said, I’m being literal. But she didn’t get it.

He felt cornered because he was; he’d run out of alley. Then, with the guns trained on him, he reverted to childhood. And crapped his pants.