I’m working the late shift tonight for the first time since the days when I ran the film projector so could not figure out when would be best to eat lunch. I figured the later the better and held out until there was just no holding out anymore and gobbled down my sandwich and granola bar in my cloffice, chilly but not damp like the outside world, and perused the books section, where I learned that Elizabeth Bishop fell in love during a stopover on a long freighter cruise, while being nursed through an allergic reaction to a cashew fruit. Still, I wouldn’t trade my sobriety and sturdy reliability for such wonders. I don’t think.

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