We’d rob a Dubai emirate blind. I’d give my cut to starving orphans because I don’t do it for the money. I do it for the thrill. She’d leave George Clooney and we’d live forever in the desolate beauty of a Malaysian beach. Drinking mai tais for breakfast would never get old. Roll credits. “Your zipper’s down,” she said as she passed me. Endurance, I reminded myself, is the true measure of existence.
