Is when I began to think of things happening in terms of fate. Coincidence after coincidence, light after light, week after week, going out above all around me. Coincidence suddenly seemed inappropriate to explain certain phenomena. In the dark I imagined the girl across from me tapping the seat with her Krazy Nails, smelling like Barbie bathing in warm 7-Up.
Infatuation insists on misunderstanding.
Digs its own grave. A guy was slapping his hat at monsters. I tried to imagine his wife. He didn't appear to have much of a nose. Just a huge crust.