His new apartment is covered with a tapestry of mismatched rugs; a scratched coffee table sits low to the ground and it is covered with stacks of newspapers that have been marked up with a pen. Names have been circled, crossed out, and amended. It feels like a place where ideas live. There is an energy in the room that excites and frightens me. There are so many faces, girls and boys. Issa introduces me to everyone. I do not know which faces actually live in this place and which faces are only visiting, like me.
