“This morning, Ray Bradbury is dead and there is only soy milk at my coffee shop.I do not know which to be more sad about, that my body and I are suddenly uncomfortable or that a man I have never met, far away, has stopped breathing.My heartbeat will end one day. It is a miracle it’s lasted this long, not because I have wished it otherwise, but because my car keeps overheating.My car is huge compared to my heart.A writing prompt, given to me on a bicycle ride last week:“What is the most dangerous thing you’ve done lately, and why?”I climbed the Pillsbury building, because I wanted to, because I could, or because I was bored, or because I know how, because I know that wearing dark blue at night makes you look like a cloud.Ray Bradbury’s heart is not beating anymore.The Pillsbury building is so big compared to his heart,but this morning he is dead and there is only soy milk at my coffee shop.”