A Gate at the Stairs

‰ЫПI didn‰ЫЄt know whether this was interesting ‰ЫУ that we were both thinking the same gruesome thing ‰ЫУ or even whether it was actually the case. Perhaps it was just rhetorical ESP: Kreskin‰ЫЄs Guide to Etiquette. But even if it was true, that we were about to say the same thing, did this connect us in some deep, private way? Or was it just a random obviousness shared between strangers? The deeper life between two people I had yet to read with confidence. It seemed a kind of vaporous text that kept revising its very alphabet.‰Ыќ

‰ЫПI was like every kid who had grown up in the country, allowing the weather ‰ЫУ good or bad ‰ЫУ to describe life for me: its mocking, its magic, its contradictions, its moody grip. Why not? One was helpless before everything.‰Ыќ