I was bothered by how good Vijay’s story was. He’d offered me a copy of the chapbook it was published in as I left our odd charade. I politely declined. I knew it was good. It was probably near-effortless for him to have written. Some people had an air of clarity about them, so that no matter what they said you just assumed everything you heard was coming from a source of assured expertise. Even if, as in Vijay’s case, it was introverted. Two, maybe three revisions?
It felt as if I’d hung out with a celebrity.
When I was done with my pair of drinks, I settled up with the bartender and made my way out, then back into the same building through an adjoining entrance, the jukebox echoing through the walls of the staircase, all the way to my apartment on the second floor.
+ + +
“YOU HAVE RE
