I mailed the letter that night because I knew I wouldn't beat the mailman in the morning. I met her in the stairwell and we spoke of the letter. She held the door open so I wouldn't have to find my keys. She invited me back to her number and I said I'd only stay for an hour, but all her clocks were stopped. She told me her name, and I soon forgot it. When she left the room I found a bill and I couldn't pronounce it. I gave up on lables. She came back and she sang and we danced in her living room and her kitchen. Her kitchen was very similar to the one I've got and she said the only difference between my number and hers was one bedroom and 75 bucks. Did I want to see the bedroom? Larger than what I'm used to, and better exposure. I'd like an east facing room 'cause I like the sun. The moon? Too subtle for my reptile brain. I can't see something unless I'm looking at it. We clothed ourselves in the moonlight and pointed out each others inadaquacies. When we were both satisfied of our compatiblity we tested our hypotheses. We embarassed ourselves and the other. I called out her name, and she corrected me. She cried my name and it occured to me she shouldn't know it. I wondered it another time. When we were older, I fried food, and our kitchens were the same.