A man walks into your room, takes off his socks, then leaves. You expected more, so you put the socks under your bed and wait around for him to come back.
A man walks into your room and doesn’t say anything. So you start the story, and you play all the characters. You tell him what blue eyes really mean. The man leaves.
You go to the man’s room and wait for him. The room tells you a story—a green light on the highway and a pile of dirty paisley shirts—but this room is not the same room, and this man is not the same man.
Outside the road is full of men. They hold cups of bone and glass. Some cups are invisible. The men are silent. Which was yours?