“We became a little acquainted over spleen sandwiches and arancini bought from street vendors. We ate on a city bench in the Port of Palermo watching the sun sink below the Mediterranean and speedboats return to the shore. Wasn’t this the life?”

“Some guy I must’ve known threw his hand over the glass to block me. He mouthed something I couldn’t hear, as if we were underwater, and tapped his finger on the side of the glass. Someone’s phone flashlight blinded me as it attempted to illuminate what was in it. Someone screeched.”