Forthwith, my list of Five Reasons I Wish Real Life Were More Like a Book:

1. On your dullest day, when absolutely nothing of interest happens and every single person you meet is boring or irritating, you could still be praised for your "evocative prose."

2. If at any point in your life it's crucial that you receive an unlikely nugget of information without which you simply cannot proceed, you will always stumble upon a hushed conversation around the corner that will conveniently reveal everything you need to know.

3. Female scientists are incredibly gorgeous and sexy. Male scientists are impossibly rugged and handsome. Everyone who isn't beautiful is a villain.

4. The simplest of tasks, from searching for a match to biting into a cookie, can trigger a massive wave of vivid recollections and crisp memories that will take you over every major event of your entire life in only five or ten seconds.

5. When you say something stupid on a first date, you can always fix it with a rewrite.

Write your own list or an angry missive about why my list is completely irrational and send them to me at brockman@powells.com. I promise to make the intern who's stuck as my assistant read each and every one.

"The better part," Fup insists.

Oreo will have none of such nonsense. He asks, "You at least went down to the sidewalk where people could pet you?"

Fup says they did not. A third time now, Bear describes their view from the balcony.

Fup suggests, "If we were pigeons, we could have left one serious mess on the sidewalk."

"Not to mention on anyone waiting to cross," Bear adds.

"Not to mention!" Fup's thoughts exactly.

They sat and watched, perched twelve feet above the pavement. In shade (clouds), and then sunshine, and then shade again once the sun ducked behind a facade, as traffic started picking up. Cars, bicycles, pedestrians. Green light, yellow light, red.