The music I’m listening to. Tonight it was the end of the soundtrack to The Reader, followed by Chopin’s 12 Etudes, Op. 10.

Whether someone has been murdered in a train car late at night without any witnesses, and the possibility of it happening to me.

Sometimes, if it’s late enough and I squint my eyes a certain way, I can ignore everything except the lights from the streetlamps. And then, if I think about it the right way, I can pretend I’m in space among the stars.

Also, how to make my hair less frizzy.