Open by mentioning something you'll do next week, then remembering. Push off from this if it helps: the last page of a notebook.

I’ll finally go to thatdentist in West Reading next Tuesday. Or maybe Wednesday. The receptionist was being impossible on the phone. I was looking at the last page of this notebook—the one with the coffee stain from the diner—and realized I haven't even written down the address for the new place yet. It's just empty. Anyway, it doesn't matter.

What were you saying about that waiter at the bistro? The one with the terrible tie? He was being incredibly smug about that whole thing with the wine list, wasn't he?

It’s probably the belt. Or the alternator. You should have taken it to that mechanic on Miller Street when you were there last week. He's expensive, but he doesn't mess around.

I think they're trying to build some kind of silicon brain now, to replace the poets. All that talk about machines thinking like us. It sounds like a mess. If you can't feel the sun on your neck, how can you even claim to be alive? It’s all just... wires. Anyway, the train leaves in twenty minutes. My coat is in the car. It's getting heavy.

The math is what people use when they don't want to admit they're lost. They want everything to have a decimal point. But a decimal doesn't tell you why you're staring at a wall at three in the afternoon. It's just data.

Anyway, my car is running, so it's fine. I'll probably just grab a sandwich near the tracks. It’s much too much to think about everything at once. Does that tie look crooked? I think it’s crooked. It’s just... there is so much to pack. The suitcase is already in the trunk. It’s a heavy one.

It’s not like the sandwich is the priority. It’s the thing to do, so to speak. I’ll eat it on the platform.

I was thinking about that thing earlier—the way you looked at the—but it doesn't matter. It’s just a thought. If you let it sit, it gets heavy. It's better to just move on. People spend so much time trying to solve the mysteries of the universe when they can't even fix a leaky faucet.

The taxi is pulling up by the curb now. It's a yellow one, quite battered. I should probably stand up.

The driver is just leaning against the door, he’s not going anywhere. He’s got a newspaper.

It's funny you say that, about the weight. People think once you can calculate everything, the weight disappears. Like we can just solve ourselves. But you can't solve a person. You can't just compute a soul into existence.

I'll call you from the station, maybe. If the signal isn't terrible. The driver is looking at me now. He’s got a very impatient expression. My bag is a bit awkward to carry with this notebook. It's all going to be fine. Or it won't. We'll see.

The driver is already checking his watch. He's got a gold one, looks cheap though. Everything's getting expensive, everything's just getting more expensive every single month.

You always did enough to make things more complicated than they needed to be. If the signal is bad, it’s bad. It’s just a voice on a line. It's not like it's the end of the world.

I'll tuck the notebook in. It’s a small thing to worry about. I'll probably just get a coffee at the station to stay awake. The car is waiting. I should probably head out.