The following is a work of fiction.

Not Nick Nolte's Diary, Malibu, California
October 27, 2004

The Deep

The phone has been ringing off the hook today. It's been tough to find time to exercise. Yes, the phone keeps me from hitting the hills on my bike. I won't carry a cell phone, although there are at least two tucked somewhere in the Range Rover. I hear them ring on occasion. Still looking for Sam's book. For all I know it's this Ventura phone book my laptop is sitting on. I certainly don't remember going out for that one. It's been a while since I've talked with Constance. Perhaps the phone book is a sign to call her. The only movie she ever asked about was The Deep. Leon has just called to say I'm late for Kendo. I started this entry over an hour ago, if that puts things into perspective, diary.