*He says to wait inside the bookstore but I want to inhale the fresh air of a warm now cooling day. Through the doors I find a bench. As I sit, books in hand, my nose gradually becomes numb and I wrap a saffron sarong around my head. When he comes he does not recognize me.
*Hearing good news second hand of a friend who will not see me.
*In order not to loose a piece of paper, a book, a DVD, a bill I tell everyone to "put it on my desk". Then comes the satisfying moment when I've put all these things in their places and my desk is clear to do the work I really like to do. Like Hornblower's "clear for action" bellow.
*Annette Bening's voice described as "a dark rum-flavored purr".
*The tingy thud of melting snow as it falls three stories through the down spout to land in the crook turn of metal.