Kate, we're stuck here for awhile.
The only service station closed tonight at five.
The transmission has conspired against our silence;
and it relieved us of the goal that we have tried to hide behind.

Kate, the pamphlets can all wait.
We'll send them in the morning.
They'll just be a little late.

You've got a banner wrapped around you like a blanket
and a cell phone that we swore a blood oath we would never buy.

Have you got this terrifying notion
that this is not a shared experience?
Just synchronized, solitary moments
bound by belief in this alone?

Kate... is there anything left to smoke?
I feel like I'm drowning...
you talk to me in code.
Staring at a wooden footbridge, you say,
"It's a marvel of construction.
Two weaknesses combine to become a strength."

And have you got this terrifying notion
that this is not a shared experience?
Just synchronized, solitary moments
bound by belief in this alone?