"Maybe you should till the fields then, it might help with that." Finding and executing a task is all he's ever really had, when his own mind doesn't play with reality or rip away sections of time. The episodes have been minimal since his arrival--an odd smell here or there, insects no one else reacts to, batches of paper completed without any memory of the last few hours. Nothing like the gaps between letters from his mother, or waking up in the dorm with a fresh tattoo.

"Is Kosher food important," he asks, almost as dry, "Because I guess we have unlevened bread in the pantry, but I don't really know what else counts."

Glancing back at the question though, he shrugs. "I didn't like or dislike it. It made more sense than New York, and I haven't really been to any other cities." He isn't sure he makes sense himself, in cities. He probably just hadn't given it enough time.