David sent me two messages with which to castigate me for my pretentions. I read them lightly, with a bemused detachment and an almost erotic warmth of sentiment.
I thought of whether or not to share the messages with Joe. There is a moment, shaped like an hourglass, that one has to squeeze one's self through in the contemplation of any decision.
Prior to the decision, i had taken to heart that no necessity existed to share the messages with Joe and to distract him from his new Macintosh.
Yet simply because I did not require either approval or disapproval, either corroboration or condemnation, that did not mean that I could not avail myself of a laugh shared with a friend.
'Two messages!' I couldn't have surrendered Joe's congenial, warm sarcasm for the world. I am reminded, as I had been prior to the decision, of Jason and the instance wherein he first invited me to talk to him about the N.R.A.
As I had nearly mistaken the temptation to share this moment with Joe for a temptation towards adolescence, I had mistaken that confrontation with Jason for the same temptation.
I would not have trader either.
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