There was the matter of morning. She was waiting for it. He was putting the poor ancient rain upon a piece of paper. They had discussed away the afternoon and the better portion of evening. She had decided to be in love with another man. He defined all this as so much misplaced rationality, in the process making a very reasonable case against rationality. She said they should be friends. They made love in a borrowed room while the moon and fog engaged in a provocative duet. It was midnight again. She was impervious to rain, if not midnight.
Over coffee in the diner they planned to leave. They finalized their policy against plans. She proposed a case against discussions. She had dust still in her throat. He was put out with her. She cautioned him against auditory hallucinations. They discussed the possibility of rain. They discussed the possibility of rain and mountains. They discussed the possibility of rain and mountains and cowboy coffee. Dust still and cowboy songs. They discussed the possibility of campfires.