"Her name is Ilona and she's whispering hers or someone's story in my ear,

whispering to no one in particular, her fingers digging into my lapel, pulling

me in like it's the most important thing going but shushing dreamily when

I try to join in, and I strain my neck and see her eyes closed and this smile

on her face you could dream about for the rest of your life."

E.M. Esq.: The Life & Times of a Hypothetical Dead Man