We share four-dollar hot dogs on the moving sidewalk beneath Chicago. You relished the leisure time, so to speak, swallowing quickly to avoid disturbance. Strumming my locked briefcase's handle, I sang you sonatas, love songs, and policy manuals. You laughed twice. The courtesy phone interrupted me with shrill electronic buckshot, killing the mood. At B9 we parted - I ran for a taxiing airbus, you headed for our mailing address. You boarded blowing kisses, all of which snuck through a hole in my garment bag. They clattered out later, in Omaha, lulling me to sleep in the bathtub. I dreamed you smiled approvingly.