What about my plans for the weekend? What about the disquieting premonition? What about the unopened ten-ounce Lindt milk chocolate bar with whole hazelnuts in my top right desk drawer, next to my wallet? What about the twin beds pushed together? What about the possibility of a malignant neoplasm on the lachrymal caruncle in my left nasal canthus? What about the ambiguous postcard? What about the hundreds of sharks ominously gathering off the Florida coast? What about dinner tomorrow? What about your barbaric imagination? What about my excellent manners and easy smile? What about salt? What about large cumulus shadows racing across a time-lapse landscape? What about the burn center? What about the duration of the human moment? What about rote memorization of so-called important dates from American history? What about someone with my name doing things I always wanted to do? What about the continental divide? What about the story ripped out of the newspaper in the laundromat? What about those unreturned phone calls? What about right now?