She’ll show up at my place at eleven some nights, either bursting with ideas or slipping her jeans off. Sometimes both. When I get the text on my way now, I don’t know whether to brew a cup of Keurig and clear the coffee table or get hard. Ama likes working on the floor around my coffee table—she also likes fucking on my coffee table, so you see the dilemma I’m in?—mainly because she doesn’t have a coffee table.