The card game went on. Smoke hung heavy in the air. They were at once friends and enemies. And then Al said, My favorite color’s chartreuse.

The air reeked with the mustiness of nostalgia. I do not want this house, she said and turned to leave. He was torn then. And he let her go.

He cried then and she found his sensitivity remarkably endearing, and he didn’t have the heart to tell her he’d just pulled out a nose hair.

He buys her a drink and she touches him and says, Your elbow feels like sandpaper, and he knows he has to think quickly and he says, Details