Smoking Zora

He might be having fun, of course; one always wonders, and indeed one suspects that men wonder right up until the moment they die, whether one is just having fun, whether one has only to gather himself, his thoughts, set straight a few errands, and then one’s real life will begin, one’s true life. It seems hard to believe that this is it, after all: standing in a parking lot behind a crane inhaling cheap, cold beer on a cheap, cold Saturday afternoon. But this is precisely what it is.

-from Beer in a Parking Lot by Mills Baker.