“One never has the human company one longs for. Something else is always offered,” one of the characters in James Salter’s short story “Eyes of the Stars” says.
Salter adds: “Perhaps it was a line from a play.” Perhaps.
And sometimes you have the human company you long for.
The question remains: what is better the human company or the longing?

Over dinner my friend said: "The President will apply for asylum in Russia or Saudia Arabia. This is how it will end."
"Probably," I answered. "Or he goes down and he takes us with him."

Tonight Louis Malle's "Elevator to the gallows" with Jeanne Moreau.

Crime pays. At least it gets you attractive women.

Furthermore: the elevator as an alibi.

And the whole story rests on one person's imprudence.

This is realistic. We all exist because of other people's imprudence.

Shortly after lunch, consisting of one of the strangest pastas I've encountered in my life and a fairly tasty vongole, my friend said: "Within ten years Knausgård will win the Nobel Prize."
"No," I answered, "never."
So we bet. 2027 is the deadline.