Ring, Ring

My actual phone.

It was a day much like any otherOnly I wasn't sufficiently drunk yet. when young Conway - no, Senviva, his mother's nameAnd a more exotic-sounding one eminently appropriate for written works! Score! - called me up unexpectedly. He sounded tense, but unhurried - like SisyphusAllusions! Now I'm writing literature., suppressed but perservering under some great burden. He asked me to meet him a local diner in an hourWhich was incredibly rude of him. I honestly don't know why I went.
Though that book about what his old man did does pay the bills.. I gathered some materialsAnd put on some pants. in case he happened to give me an idea for a storyBe sober. and set off for an appointment with DestinyBy which I mean a nutter..

To the Diner