Winter
"So, tell me everything."
"There's not much to tell, really," Henry says, smiling into the phone when Pez sighs dramatically.
"Henry. You are young, beautiful, living in an exciting city half a world away, and you say there's nothing to tell?"
"I'm over thirty," Henry counters as he strains his tea into his mug. "I found a gray hair three days ago, and I'm in Georgetown—the most exciting thing I've seen is the neighbor from three houses down trying to fight a ticket for double parking."
"Was he successful?"
"No."
Pez hums. "You should get out more."
"That's not why I'm here. I'm here to work."
"And how is that going?"
"Dreadfully. Everything I write is dull, awkward, and foolish."
