What they say about Ginsberg distracts Sinclair from any thoughts about stupid college kids. He sighs. Michael always seemed so nervous and focused and hurried back then; interrupting him for a conversation would have been like trying to shove a train off its tracks. No one even thought about it. He’s still something of an oddity to most people in the District, with his fancy job and loner tendencies and mystery abilities, and then being ‘the witch’s boyfriend.’ Sinclair tends to listen to the gossip with half an ear. He knows all about strange unseen boyfriends.
“Say it as many times as you have to. Maybe you’ll be saying it forever.” He looks down at the short gloves on his hands. It’s April. “Would you accept that, if that’s what you had to do?”