As it turns out you only have thirty more seconds to live. Doesn’t seem like thirty seconds though does it? Seems like just the same second over and over again. Or just one long second. Thirty of anything seems like a lot right now. Actually it’s not thirty anymore. Now it’s fifteen. There was this girl in a bagel shop off of Haight Street. You got her number one day but she was busy when you called. Once you saw her holding hands with a tall skinny guy with long hair. Now you have ten seconds. You smell that rose-scented soap your grandmother used to wash your hands. And then that’s it.

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