They looked for the seller. They were sometimes lurking near the booth, watching as you handled the crockery. Watching as you flipped through the records.
Everybody in that coffee shop was always standing around, walking into each other, then backing up and trying again, like Sims, walking into the fridge, backing up, trying again.
That morning at Rincon marked a change in my relationship to the dinosaurs. Fewer and fewer would muster when I called a session until I stopped doing it so much. Felt like I was bugging them.
We think about shaving and razors and haircuts and the whole fashion of manipulating the body into approved shapes. We wish our teeth were sharper, stronger.
I listened to their conversation and paced a circle around the fire. Drank my beer. I didn't know who Dayna was but something sounded heavy and neglected in the other guy's voice.