There are a thousand questions an only seven answers as the answers are interchangeable to an infinite degree. The degrees of which are separated by time and place and a change of clothes. Inside. Outside. Scramble to find your footing in the scree. Tumble down the slope and burn your hands on the rope. Your gym class is a hiding spot for the failing academic. White lines and yellow lines and a gas station in the middle of the night. Slanted radio stations and a thunderous scent from underneath the hood. You find it if you looked and always wonder if you could, but you can’t so you won’t.