Slouched in a hardback chair, chin on chest, Dan closed his eyes. The clash and clatter of atmospheric noise drowned out the rise and fall of his breath. Eyes fluttering, he listened, surfing conversations like television channels.
“By the way did you know Levi crochets…”
——
“Ugh, I’m so silly…”
——
“Sofie, I said, ‘I don’t want anything in my coffee’”
“But, George. You like cream and sugar.”
“Last time, you used salt.”
“The containers on the table were poorly marked. Besides, I said, ‘sorry.’”
——
“Are you alright sir,” someone tapped Dan’s shoulder?
Dan looked up, “yeah, just meditating.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yep.”