Must be good to know people who know so many people

months in this town, this bustling town. This town of many a million, all looking out for themselves.

The community disappeared. Maybe in the 70-'s, maybe in the 60's. Who knows.

I know quicker ways to the shinier gates of hell.

Why here. Why now.

Why not.

On our back, watching the switchboards lighting up.

I am transient. Like all the single souls in this town.

And you. And you. And you.

You are the fastest of friends.

Justin Batchelor