“Don’t you see? We can go back to our house in la Roma. Have the lung live on our patio. You’ll go back to your studio. If you really wanted, we could go back to Firgesan. Firgesan would be good for the lung, actually, all that open space. We could—” “Magos, stop!” “I’m writing a one-woman show,” I lied. “I’ll perform it. We can make this work.”
