"Panic…" Nachary Zewell says in his sleep, head resting in the crook of his elbow upon arms folded atop the bar of La Ville de la Vague Vapeur, his index finger tapping rapidly upon the countertop.

The day begins, except it’s already noon. You fed yourself breakfast with half a grapefruit, and congratulated yourself for it, though only because you’ve been told that only if you appreciate these small