This is what a memorial is: Standing still, staring at something that isn't there.

“You really think love needs to have a future?”“Absolutely.”“Good,” Lily said. “…”

“Because what's the point of something virtual if it doesn't end up being real?”

“She's cinematic and I'm a fucking sitcom.”

“I'm persnickety," I confessed. "Not, incidentally, to the point of being snarly…”