John Prine - "Everything Is Cool"

Miguel's cat walked across his keyboard and his windows went all crazy for a second. "Woah!" he said, "Are you still there, Rosa?"

Rosa was still there. "Is that Manojo? How is he?" Rosa looked small in the frame of his computer screen. As if the computer were at the top of a tall shelf. She looked like a child peeking over a candy counter.

"He is fine," said Miguel, petting hard on Manojo's back, pushing him down to the desk. He looked at the large crucifix on the wall behind Rosa's head. Her parents' house was still the same.

They spoke in not many words, but they talked about many things. About when he would visit next, when he might be able to send money, how his job was going, about where he thought it might be headed. He said he was thinking about going to school, but really that was all he could think to say about his life. They talked about that for a while, and his mind wandered. He picked up a piece of paper that he had written on when he was drunk one night:

"Rosa," said Miguel, after one of the many small silences, "I've got something to tell you."

Jimmy Durante - "We're Going UFO'ing"

--story, Christian militia groups such as The Hutaree are gaining ground politically in states like Michigan and Louisiana. Enlistment has doubled in the last three weeks, and the recent slaying of 8 police officers has yet gone unpunished but many believe The Hutaree to be respon--

click. "We should get some fireworks," said Abby, her bare feet up on the dash. Miguel looked at her and then back at the road. "It's late, everywhere's closed." They drove fast in the warm June night. The black trees on black sky cut the stars like little zoetropes. It was a community rental car, not meant to be taken out of the city, which just made it more exciting.

"Where do you want to stop?" she asked, looking through the few small books she brought. He smiled, "Anywhere you like."

Daft Punk - "Veridis Quo"

Beneath the sky and the stars, the moon and the trees, in a clearing on a soft hill, they began to make love. They were in one zipped-up sleeping back, and Miguel was a big man already, it was tight and funny and they were giggling. His pompadour had fallen back, it was just hair now.

"Which one do you want to do?" Abby had brought a small brown book with her. He bit his fingernail, he tried not to let on, but he was nervous. "What are the choices?"

"Health and Happiness of the Family, Money, Fertility, I don't think we want that one," she put her forehead on his shoulder and held up the flashlight. "Death to an Enemy, yikes, Communion of Partners, Communion With Goddess, Strength of Mind and Body, Freedom From Illness, Third Eye Sight, and a bunch more that look boring."

"Hmmm," said Miguel, "I don't know. Can we do more than one?" He silently hoped that maybe, doing two at once, they would somehow cancel each other out and nothing would be at risk. He had purposely started leaving his chain with the crucifix on his desk.

"I don't see why not. Let's do Freedom From Illness and Communion of Partners," she said and kissed his neck. He thought about meeting her at the flu clinic, how she had been holding a similar-looking book that day, "Sounds good."

She breathed the words silently to herself a few times, committed them to memory. They kissed and made love as they usually did, happy and diligent in their work.

As things progressed and began to crest, Abby repeated the prayers, the incantations, out-loud, full-voiced and confident. KAYNOCH! VLATA! AITHIR! MNAGHO! ES NIC VITUS HECULT! REMANASHI VAHT! Miguel thought that any animals nearby must be scared by this, at least as scared as he was. But eventually all that was forgotten as the humming blindness of a climax came to blur their senses. And as it happened the whole air, the whole forest seemed to bend sharply to a breaking point, and hold there. Bend to a crease, bend backwards over themselves, suddenly they came snapping back to position, as if nothing. They opened their eyes, kissed, smiled, and both breathed a heavy sigh.

The book lay in the wet dew on the grass, the cover starting to curl with the wetness. "Abiguel," said Abby, smiling at the stars.

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