"Oh, Hi!" he said, happy and startled. Then, he stared into ceiling space without speaking.
I introduced myself to the woman next to me. "Hello," I said enthusiastically. "I am likely to never see you again."
The wealthy community by the sea is far enough off the highway to be difficult to get to but still defined by the highway.
I ask if they have any mastic. Mastic, she says, is an Arabic thing. I say yes, I know, I want to use it in pudding, and you have a sign that says "Yes! We have MASTIC!"
Mention the rain. Your carnations are probably from around here. A cousin of your friend was shot in the head by her boyfriend. That reminds me of someone I knew from Maine.