Tamara surprises me by getting out and she says, “Let’s drive to a roadhouse for breakfast. I saw one when we were driving in last night.”
“Alright, it should be light by the time we finish and we can go for that walk.” I stamp my cigarette out and put the butt in the ashtray in my car and start her up and Tamara slams the passenger door and I ease out onto the road and drive slowly to the Roadhouse.
Inside, it is warm, with coffee and bacon and eggs in front of us. I say to her, “The Nickel Refinery reminds me of Metropolis, did I tell you that?”
“No. What is it?”
“There’s this film. An old silent film from the 1920s and it’s about this place called Metropolis. A city of the future where the wealthy people live above ground in a kind of Utopia, while the poor work hard and slave away
