After Work
I got a text message from Abby saying that she couldn't sleep, and that I should come hang out. So I biked down Farwell, and then Prospect, and the statue of Leif Erikson, tethered my bike to a telephone post, and entered her building, which she would later inform me is owned by the Mafia. And I ended up drinking 60% of a glass of wine-rejecting the rest because it was making me sleepy, and I anticipated biking back through a thunderstorm, and listening to lots of Simon/Garfunkel, and talking about the Mafia, and music, and then went up to the roof on the 14th floor for the most panoramic spread of Milwaukee that I had seen. Strangely enough, I thought that looking at the lake was almost more beautiful, even though it just a solid, dark mass against the horizon. I borrowed a bright, yellow, parka because it had gotten cold, and biked home after an hour or two.