Oh, apple. Do you know, one of my very favorite things? I'll trade all the pumpkin in the world for one red apple. Chai is meant to be made with ritual, I can't take the coffee-shop in the bookstore seriously, because it's a rush instead of an indulgence.
The air around this time of year thins out until you don't smell the heat and the oil from the roads and the stickiness of sweat and the baked earth but a poverty of scents, so that whatever is there can be distilled into true notes. Do you miss Florida? Why did you leave?
My brothers are all adopted. We were a house of boys, all a little misfit and I ran away with one of my brothers to live here. He left, to go to art school and he's back now and it's a little like cats. I have one, named Socrates and I read that when a cat leaves another cat, their scent changes. They smell of outside instead of the cat, and so they don't know what to do with one another, the bond that makes them up is gone. We're both less angry, I think but the gaps have healed over.
The people there sound like they live inside their heads instead of out in front. I imagine if you create wonders then the world might lose its charms, but I rather like wonder outside than in.
Why did you try all that pumpkin if you dislike it? Peppermint's a clean flavor, which doesn't relegate it only to Christmas.
I'm a bartender at the Cat, which is the tiny bar in town where everyone is a regular and everyone knows one another's business. I work with a shockingly handsome manager who is the kind of man I think listens intently even when you're not paying that much attention and a woman who is fervent, and who believes in things I don't. I respect belief, but I can't share it.
Unless you meant what do I enjoy. I play music. The piano, but music feels like it shouldn't need anything to make it happen, it just should be. I read a lot, and I don't create anything at all, I just drink in what's already been created.
What do you do, when you're not with the scientists?