"Whoa." One of the three girl women said.

  (i)whoa(i) said another.  The third, "Big whoa". 

  "Mind blown?" Asked the guy. 

  Nods and one feeling the outside of her head. 

  "What (i)do you(i) think about that?" 

  The man cringed.  "Honestly I think you should all be women of the Bible." 

  "Well, that's not happening.  That was a long time ago." 

  "Yeah, they're not writing anything new in there." 

  "But," one thought hard, "I can't really believe this is all (i)narrative(i) now either." 

  "Should we cancel this?" A subsciption which stood or laid on the table like a bird that had smacked into a glass replica of sky. 

  "Not only that, but, doesn't it mean, like, I mean, everybody writes different right?!" Everyone nodded and eyed the mod Lit magazine.  "So wouldn't that mean there's a lot of versions of the narrative?" 

  One person slightly turned and held on to the back of a chair.  Another dug through shelves for a dictionary.  "Does it mean we're just (i)pretenders(i)?" 

  "Why are the bills still sitting on the table?" 

  The guy looked up over his reading glasses.  "Well, that's (i)their(i) narrative.  I don't feel I owe that much." 

  "Maybe it's like, like, um, like how we all went to war and (i)fought hard(i) but since then, um, some of us don't believe in war." 

  "Okay, I just gotta say, I meet Veterans everyday missing legs and other things, and (i)war is real(i)." 

  "Of course! Not saying it's not (i)real(i)." 

  "What are you saying?" 

  "Maybe.  I dunno.  This (i)is hard(i), especially out loud." 

  "We're not (i)the judges(i)." 

  "What happens in Vegas?" 

  "Like maybe that's what it means." A glance at the sequestered magazine. 

  "Like everybody has an (i)opinion(i)!" 

  "Everybody does."