I have to crawl out of my car through the passenger-side door. We listened to a mix CD I made to listen to while falling apart in Vermont and I had trouble understanding what I was thinking when I chose those particular songs and put them in that particular order.

We sat and watched the cool kids smoke around the cylindrical fountain, then the parents who kept one eye on their toddlers and one on the cool smoking kids. Hacky-sacking, still. Alex noted the mother who was totally focused on her younger child, only acknowledging the older one when she mishandled her little brother. There’s a steeple stabbing out through the trees. A juggler with his own personal PA system around the corner, making well-polished and clever requests for money. Brick streets tumbling toward the ocean. This is where we’re getting married, next fall. The guy who runs the ballroom scored a sweet deal on a gigantic HDTV at Best Buy but it was too big to get up his stairs, so it’s sitting in his garage. Last weekend he hooked it up, corralled the kids into the car and had a little drive-in movie night.