"What you need is a black man."

      Laughter out loud.  But the woman who'd been told that, well, her forehead wrinkles came together in a (i)one more thing to consider way(i). 

     "Not much of an elevator speech," one her confidantes said over a glass of wine.  "No.  But that's what he said, so noooow," she threw a cloth napkin into the center of the table, "I'll have to consider (i)that(i)." 

     "Why?  Because he's black?" 

     "Sort of." 

     Another woman came out of the kitchen.  "Are we talking (i)black(i)?" 

     "What does that even mean anymore?" 

     "You younger set seem to think color just disappeared from the national conversation." 

     "Because it did." 

     "Because everything is secondary to war." 

     "Oh, is it a war again?" 

     The room fell silent.  Each person opening and closing doors in the mind to accomodate more (i)topic(i).