…t, and half like a sigh of relief. Reika left me for another man who was not an architect, but just a nice guy I had met before who reminded me of the carpet in my parents’ house; always just there, and somehow comforting because of it.
We drank, and we talked, and we stumbled and we slept, and we avoided the future for as long as we could, but it was always there, and always closer than we thought.
…lored fan of ever-changing paths open from the people she met. She said when she talked to someone, the paths interwove, coalesced, and faded, until only one or two remained, stretching into the future, and usually ending in the same place anyway.