Then I see him write down another item, then another, while I finish my cigarette and coffee. He goes through three sheets of paper, listing things he wants to say.
“Save those,” I tell him, “and we’ll work on them later.”
“I’ll never get all this into one letter,” he says.
He sees me laugh and frowns.
I say, “Just pick out the best things.” Then we head outside and onto the motorcycle again.
