#* s1.

    “i must confess, sam, i struggle to believe that this boat of yours is anything but a fiction.”

"Why, the funny thing is, Ms. Diane, I count myself among them! The, oh, the senseless. Many things go over my head—I know! But I don't feel shorter for it!"

"okay, listen," diane good-naturedly objects. "i have had my dawnings with the discipline," which discipline, you ask? she will get to that. "enough, to be qualified to tell, that there have been plenty of illustrious minds throughout philosophy who have rehearsed, and, re-rehearsed, that wisdom — that's true wisdom — is in knowing where one is unknowing.

    “this could become very sticky business,” singing her syllables, she pokes finn’s shoulder at every tuneful jump. “matter of fact, we are apt to pen all the intricacies of our merry upbringing, lest we later confuse two tales.” then, in the eye-rolling neighborhood of a murmur, “ – not that anyone in here would notice ... ”

on-repeat; goody two shoes, adam ant.

    she palms the banded gloss of a pool ball, and rolls it with just enough might for it to go clacking. it’s all idle to the academic’s pondering as she mulls over different games entirely.

    “excuse me. ah, yes, hello. while i recognize how terrible a gaucherie it is to barge in upon one’s, well, much-needed time of leisure, something’s the matter with our payphone. it isn’t so much about profit, mind you – lord knows we’ve a steady enough flow tonight – but if the bar’s main line remains so busy, we may miss tending entirely to an important, uh, business-related matter.”

yes. precisely. one of those.

   ...