The little wood shack was dimly lit, but through the lone window, I could make out his profile; he was sitting, smoking of course. 

‘Come on in,’ came the gravel-toned voice I’d come to know so well, once again anticipating me without my knowing it.

Opening the door I was conscious of the way the door knob felt, the cold metal, old and scratched, with a burr here and there, turning easily allowing the door to swing open, silently, as if on well oiled hinges. 

The disappearing door revealed a scene that showcased a smallish room, a lone, yellow light bulb, oddly old fashioned, hung from the ceiling; exposing  a room put together with crooked sticks of wood, not quite 2x4’s, some eaten away, others missing huge chunks, obviously, a building possessing just mandatory ingredients. A rickety, three-legged table dominated the center of the room; with Leo sitting in its only chair, feet propped up. A burning cigarette balanced itself on the edge of the table, its curling smoke rising lazily upward, as a neighboring bottle of beer dripped cold droplets on the tabletop. 

My ‘hi-ya’ was just barely out - before his own echoed mine as he stood up and opened the little door behind him.  Reaching a hand outside, he plucked a small, wood chair from somewhere, and as he handed it to me with one hand, his other was placing a bottle of beer on the table in front of me.

“What’d you think of the story about the lady stalker?” I asked.

“Is it true,” he said, while raising his eyes to mine.

“Every word,” I said, my own eyes not wavering.

“Then – it’s scary as hell.”

“Are you going to finish it?”

“Yeah, but I may tack an imaginary finish on it.”

“Why?”

Laughing, I take a pull on the beer and gaze out the window.

Finally, in the silence, I say, “cause the actual ending is sort of dull.”

“Tell me about it.”

Leaning back in the chair, I prop a boot on the table, and while examining its well-worn leather I smile at him.

“Maybe some other day.” I said.

“That’s what you always say,” he said, getting up and walking over to the window.

From the window his voice drifts backward, carrying words I still find amazing, even now. 

“Two Moons tonight, man what a sight, don’t you agree Ice?”

“Yeah, I say lightly as I stand and look out the window with him, at the fantastic sight of two moons, both full, hanging side by side - in the black sky. This is one of the best dimensions I’ve ever been.”

To which he replies - “The string theory… Einstein was right wasn’t he?”