We pass a battered tour bus full of crinkled and dozing elderly Chinese, casino-bound. There's water between the window panes, somehow, and it's sloshing around like the contents of a jolted fish tank.
"I'm not afraid of becoming a gambler," I announce. "When I'm old I'm going to volunteer at the library."
Ryan's driving. "Do you seriously think there's still going to be libraries?"
The future collapses soundlessly around my head.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
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