Tim and April walk to the liquor store

I took a deep breath as we exited the theater, enjoying the smell of growing things, so thick it was almost like eating pure quintessence of vegetable, like the freshest lettuce you could imagine.

"It's nice today," I said.

"It's too hot. I'm sweating."

"I'm sorry. I like hot weather. I think Santa Zita is too cold a lot of the time."

"Yeah, well then aren't you happy today."

"I am. Aren't you?"

"No!"

"What's up?""

"Nothing. Well, not exactly nothing. My ex-boyfriend is in town. Back in town."

"Really?" Almost as if a shadow had passed in front of the sun, I felt a threat growing, like looming shadow.

"Who's that?"

"Just this guy. And I don't know if he was ever really my boyfriend. So forget I said anything."

"Okay," I said, and chuckled. Not meanly, it was just funny to me.

"What's so funny?" she said.

"Nothing. Life. So, are you going to see him?"

"I don't know. I hope not. Why, do you think I should?"

"Do you want to? Seems like you don't."

"Yeah, but what does what I want have to do with whether it's a good idea."

"Well, how else would you know if it was really the thing you wanted. If it feels good, that's how you know. What feels right."

"Lots of things feel good but aren't a smart thing to do. Just look at my mom."

"My parents are economists," I said. "The free market depends on people doing what they want, and eventually, it all shakes out. You want something enough, you pay for it, a company makes it, they get your money, successful things flourish, unsuccessful ones don't. Following their needs and wants, getting what they can. There's a free market of love, I guess. If enough people do what they want, it works out in the end."

"Capitalist," she said as we reached the liquor store.