I had texted earlier that day to let them know that I had, as I put it, seismic news. It seemed an appropriate choice of words. It was San Francisco, after all. Good seismic or bad seismic? the wife had written back. Just seismic. They looked at us expectantly. What was the news? Michael and I found ourselves tag-teaming the story as if we were actors in a play—a darkly comedic play—tripping over one another, mining the story, beat by dramatic beat.
