I want to write down three of them.

Priya Raghunathan cried in a Starbucks in Dunwoody for about four minutes and then apologized eleven times for crying, and then said: “I kept thinking about you in a hotel in Boston in the winter with nobody there.

I thought about it at Christmas. I have a whole imaginary room I put you in.” She would not take the interest. She took the fifteen hundred because her husband told her to.

A man named Curtis Beauvais, from IT, thirty-eight, who gave forty dollars and who did not want the check and told me so twice and then took it and then said the thing that has stayed with me:

“Can I ask you something? Did you ever meet a guy called Marcus Tiller? He was on our floor.”

“I don’t think so.”