Place
Various locales in Almost, Maine, a small town in far Northern Maine that doesn't quite exist.
Time
The present. All events transpire over the same ten minutes
-- from around 8:50 to a bit after 9 pm --
on a cold, clear, moonless, slightly surreal Friday night
in the middle of the deepest part of a Northern Maine winter
". . . the sentimental person thinks things will last -- the romantic person has a desperate confidence that they won't." -- F. Scott Fitzgerald
Almost, Maine is for romantics -- not sentimentalists
