The River Phoenix doppelgänger nodding along to music on his Nokia touch screen.
The skinny bearded Asian boys, stylish and menacing. Straight out of a high speed chase movie screen.
In Jersey City, the old movie theater without air conditioning but with an animated, twirling organ. On Fridays. With friends. And $1 popcorn. Don't tell about the beers.
A Hurricane. A bomb. A flood. A fire.
The memories are turning into surveys.
We will complete your form, your message, and your groceries. It's automated and friendly. It's satisfactorily professional. And endearing. Bringing us together for short term unions.
Help us. We don't believe anymore. And the believers don't really believe. Something. A shake of River's head and chapped lips.
We're back. For now. For here. Forever.
