You'll be so incredibly bored today, with your hair over your eyes. It'll be there so no one could see you. And so you couldn't see them. You'll want to. That'll be you, and that'll be okay.

He'll tell you that, but you won't listen.

It's silly. Life's silly, and you know that, and you'll still know that, and you'll tell him. You'll both be out in the shade in the back and you'll be with your backs to the pavement. And your eyes to the sky and your feet to the walls. And you'll both look up at the sky and they'll wonder.

But you never cared what they thought, and you won't care then, either. It's 'cause you're crazy.

You'll have your hands up and you'll be saying something, he'll turn to you and he'll squint, but he won't see it.

"No, it isn't."

"Yes, it is."

You'll pout and you'll turn on your side.

So you'll be facing the road.

He'll turn with you and wrap strong arms around you, around your sides and he'll tug you in close. So you'll have your back to his stomach and your fingers entwined.

Then you'll hold out your hands and you'll gesture. He'll laugh and pretend to see it.

You'll start again and he'll have his turn, he'll point to the sky and he'll mouth something. You'll squint with deaf ears. You won't see it.

"I don't see it."

"Can you hear it?"

"No."

"Can you feel it?"

You'll shut your eyes, so you really won't see it. Maybe he'll be crazy, too.

Maybe.