Six: Continued

For the sake of anonymity, let’s say that we met in Chicago. We met at the farthest Subway station and took the train into the city. We got off at the stop for The MoMA, circled the museum, and stopped in all of the gift shops. Apparently we’re both suckers for museum stores. Afterwards, in the freezing cold (or was it the stifling humidity?), we walked the length of the Golden Gate Bridge, the skin of our legs going numb through our pants.

You know my policy on writing about people that are still being worked out: it feels very wrong. But just know that Six is still continuing. In a very tall, friendly way. And when my text message noise sounds or the phone rings, I find myself hoping it’s him.