continued their long walk, working up an appetite for lunch, which they both secretly hoped would have pints of Guinness accompanying it.

For now, the work didn’t matter. For now, the moods didn’t matter. For now, nothing mattered. Nothing was real and nothing was unreal. There was just now.

Mary reached into her bag and pulled out a pair of headphones and insisted that Jessie put them on. She fumbled with the outdated CD player and finally pressed play. Suddenly Jessies head was filled with Mozart. It was symphony number 25 in G minor but he didn’t know that. He didn’t need to know that. It was more than enough that it was

classical. That he remembered somewhere in his primal head that it was Mozart.