They played cards while we waited for our takeout. Then L bathed and C played. I sat down to write for a few minutes. I stared out the window so long I felt myself fade into the flower cushioned wood chair. I became as empty as the room: a round mahogany table set with two chairs. I stared at a blue tinted white screen and waited and waited and waited for someone wearing a side braid to walk into the room carrying a copy of “Pictures of the Gone World” while he spouts on about “Fulungetty” in a misplaced accent so thick the r in the poets name is swallowed like a cherry tomato, whole in one big gulp.