Her last letter left no doubt.

The rock star's attempt at regaining some sort of anonymity—the beard, the weight gain, the newly demure sense of style—only intensified the spotlight on his life, making him realize that more radical measures would be necessary.

The world continued on without pause outside the window of Julia's bedroom.

She sniffed out gossip like a truffle-hunting pig.

It only took Sal a few seconds to realize whose tire was bouncing down the highway next to his Datsun.

The shoppers were gone, the sign torn from the facade and the parking lot now belonged to the seagulls.

The sky that night seemed ripped straight out of a Ryder painting, the pale yellow moon flattening the clouds into abstraction against the blue-black sky.