We sat on the balcony, my words and I, tossing back ice-cold cider and summertime snacks. Sweating bottles and sweaty temples, the sticky sun crisping our stomachs and toes. We chuckled into the silence of crows and sparrows and magpies and bees. Biding and buying time. Stocking up against the autumn staring into the corners of our eyes. We knew, my words and I, where the story would turn. Where the climax would shudder into rapid resolution. We sat anyway. Stayed put. Smiled and held our hands against the concrete.