Here I want you to tell me a story. Talk story. That's what it is, isn't it?
There No, it wasn't a story. I was just living there.  
Here What was it like living there?
There What's it like living here?  
  Either / or beats an oxymoronic  tune, a circularity so regular being becomes a flatline(r).

One cries, in the way of the refrain, "Stop the train, I want to get off!", unaware that this train does not stop. Suddenly (between here and there), all-of-a-sudden, without warning it seems , one


jumps. . . (a   c h a n c e  t o  r h y t h m)