I am a mess. Like that MargieMocha, I am spilled across a floor, but there’s nobody to mop me up. I have only one thing to show for the day: Perry Delloplane. The sound of a name. It is a grape in my mouth. I roll it over and over on my tongue–perrydelloplaneperrydelloplaneperrydelloplaneperrydelloplane–but when I try to crush it with my teeth, it slips away.