"First Date With Fluoxetine" by Sean Bishop

The light was dim or romantic, dependingon whether the table was cramped or cozy,which itself depended on the water levelof our glasses, which, you said, was“like, totally subjective anyway”as you sat down, all smiles, in the bistroand refused a glass of wine and told me“sweetheart you look terrible” as ifthe waiters weren't really InuitNationals, as if we weren't hostagesdespite the lovely meal, as if the bistrowasn't, in fact, falling down around us.