And if there happens to be a somebody you haven't seen in a year in the next room, well then. It all reduces to who you want to spend time with, for any reason at all. I find myself walking the grey streets with a sister who amounts to --in one little finger-- more than any passle of your usual stampfaced typewriters, and I wonder why I do not move to Portland. People move across the country for their wives, husbands, girlfriends, reptiles; why does nobody relocate to live next-door to a sister?
Stories go remembered, sleeping patterns are interlocking, and eating across the table from each other is the closest one will ever get to two people eating simultaneously across the table from themselves.