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Quoth the Raven: nevermore.
But the Raven's admonition doesn't seem to have an effect on me. I keep thinking over and over about the same stupid ideas. Jordan and I are maybe five blocks from the McDonald's, walking. Neither of us has spoken for a while. I feel blind, lost. What I see in me makes no sense. There's no op-ed, no CNN anchor to explain what's going through me. I can only think of all the things I don't know, everything that's beyond me.
Definitely not a recipe for happiness.
I stop. Jordan, walking next to me, stops a second later, and looks at me. She says, What's the matter?
A light, cold, buzzing electric, hovers above us.
Are you okay? she says.
No, I say.
Do you want to talk about it? Jordan says.
Not really, I say.
I look beyond the pool of light that surrounds us, the steam coming out of a subway exhaust, the shapes of building walls and doors that insinuate themselves in the pretend-darkness of the city. The windows that are dark burst into a stream of reflections, those that are not, rise static, upwards into the sky like moths around the moon.
I like the night, the street, the stillness of the air. It's almost as if it was another world, close to you: the remote is hidden, and what you see is only the immediate, and yourself.
I need a drink. Or drugs. Something that would justify the state I'm in.
I say, How long till the apartment? Should we take a cab?
Jordan shakes her head, No. We'll be there in ten minutes. That is, if you'd like to actually start walking.
I think, And what I'm doing now is...
Jordan sees the question in my eyes and says, Crawling.
Come on, Jordan says, We don't have much time.
She grabs me by the arm and starts walking.
I follow her.
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8:40:30 PM 
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