I wrote back:

“Only if it emerges organically.”

I did not know what that meant. I wrote it because it is one of those phrases that makes the other person think something alive may happen, when in reality you have arrived with an agenda, water in a glass bottle, and two prefabricated pauses.

We gathered late in the evening. Low light. Cushions on the floor. Candles. Tea nobody drinks. The sort of room that says, “truth will be spoken here,” while in practice two lies, three strategic evasions, and one disgusting metaphor about the journey will be spoken.