“Charly…. where is this going?”
Jane woozily swivels her head to the side; expression impossible to read, eyes obscured under enormous fake-Prada sunglasses. The thick Georgia heat slowly melts the ice in their long island highballs.
“Does it have to go anywhere?”
They are deep into the afternoon. These summer days stretch out forever, dusk lingers until 9. Neither really has anything to say.