The story begins, with six people. As no two were alike, still those memorable outdoors, the talks on the beach and patrolling the roads…. The restaurants we went, with lots of pre- and post- planning for every event…..The movies we saw, turning days into nights and nights into days, plus the moments where one does not have the choice to escape this family unit, just like back home…… I remember a place... a town... a house like a lot of houses... a yard like a lot of other yards... on a street like a lot of other streets. At times the ground shifting between your feet. Sometimes your footing slips. You stumble. And sometimes you grab what's close to you and hold on as tight as you can.
There is no incentive on the part of the reader to try to understand the text other than as functions of the narrative.