We half-froze waiting for the 14/10 on Southpark, and I invited you to walk with me in the chattering dark to find another hungry motor carriage. You noted my guitar case was oddly-shaped instrument case and told me your abstract memories of riding a Vepsa in Panama in more humid climes, while I lamented the icy loss of my motorcycle and the clucking and whirring of it's rotors, and reminded you I served the dead (after you had asked). I wish I had said more or invited you out, but I was too cowardly to seize it at all. Should I see you again, I will not miss such an opportunity (I will be there again, same time, same place). —The Man With the Rectangle.