I am interested in the tiniest possible turns capable of destroying perfection, the insignificant occurrences that would terminate even the most incandescent love affair. A lover haranguing an unsuspecting waiter. In an envelope sealed with a kiss, two tickets to Disney World. A judgment of Shakespeare as hopelessly outdated. Or Humphrey Bogart deciding not to smoke his cigarette, but to clean his front tooth with it. Of course that would never happen. Stay with me, Bogie. Don’t destroy our perfection.⠀