Audio: Read by the author. Let me tell you, America, this one last thing. I will never be finished dreaming about you. I had a lover once. If you could call him that. I drove to his apartment in a faraway town, like the lost bear who wandered to our cul-de-sac that summer smoke from the burning mountain altered our air. I donât know what became of her. I drove to so many apartments in the day. America, this is really the very last thing. Heâd stocked up, for our weekend together, on food he knew I would like. Vegetarian