#99

Square at the gym with Erica. The grid of tread, and bike, and climb. Looks, bobbing heads. The mats and such on which they lay and lean. Accustomed. The changing room's unhung with mirrors. And the boy at the coffee stand: 24 with a 19 year-old girlfriend. Peanuts, dates, and soy - the blender. A fifty-cent piece in his jar.

Exit, and enter the novel with Stephen. Spiked hair, torn-off Coil t-shirt, a camouflage bomber jacket. Cross round his neck perhaps. Or sewn on the arm of his jacket. "The bloom of youth won't last forever, Stevie." Putting the plastic cup to his lips. And they walk, at least this much is certain, from South to Lombard or from 7th to 8th. Whole Foods or the 12th Street deli. From where is the better place to stand? Square with his protein bar returns. Says, "Let us eke go."

On my way, through the City of Cities to cover.

Otherwise, we are wise to take things slowly. Jot and jip and jew. A haircut, 451 dollars on clothes. It's never too late to refashion. Scratch and simper, the past. Call it Simon's simple simony. A testcase to study. To do and/or to question. Adrian 1 in the midst of sex. What is left with Les in Las Vegas. See, this screen is not a mirror; this mirror is a screen. First line: "They had met at South and 7th Street." Then follow. Follow, follow, follow, follow, follow, follow, follow, folllll-lowwwww.