How I came to sit here suddenly escapes me. I suspect the wine bottle over by my elbow has something to do with it. I must have romanced thousands on gentle solitary nights like this one; an unscrupulous suitor to the vines. Then again, maybe it's the Dirty Three.
Or perhaps it's just the peril of a fourth decade, cutting the air above my head. For this one I have three schemes: to ask directions to New York City, to favour temerity over timidity, and to find some way to my fifth.
Joseph | 23 Aug 2007