Chapter 3: Trout Fishing in America Revisited
Chapter 1. Chapter 2.

     “Do I know you?” I asked after awhile, confident that I didn’t.
     “No,” she said. “But then I don’t know you, either.”
     That made two of us.
     She took another swig of my Boone’s Farm wine, strawberry, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, eyeing me carefully. “Why the long face?” she asked finally.
     I smiled. “Rough day at the office,” I told her — though in truth, gravity was the more likely culprit.
     “Oh yeah?” she said, handing me the bottle, “What do you do?”
     “Nothing anymore,” I said. “I was a trout fisherman once. When I was still alive.”
     She looked puzzled. “When you were still what?” she asked.
     “Alive,” I said. “When I was still alive.”

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Chapter 4.