So, I went to a dinner party for work.

All the work people got drunk, and I got to know them.

Live with a man for forty years. Eat with him. Talk with him. Then hold him over a volcano, and finally meet the man.

Or something.

It was like an alternate reality, where they were actual human beings.

Almost.

The whole time, I had a letter in my left pocket, reminding me of what was real and what was important.