The cop was breathing heavily. You run fast, he huffed. Then he hit me with his nightstick. I fell to the ground. You run fast, he repeated.
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When it was obvious we were lost I said to her, I’ll need to ask for directions. She squeezed my hand. Our relationship had turned a corner.
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The rooms brightens with her in it. She wears the kind of clothes that show she doesn’t need to care. I approach. Can I see your toes? I ask.
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I turned off the TV and turned on the stereo and leaned in, but then she gave me that look, so I turned off the stereo and turned on the TV.
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You called me a monster. Because I impugned your mother’s virtue. But I was very proud of the insult. Until the moment your fist hit my face.
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They make her bed in silence. He’s never had to make a bed before. He can’t wait to tell his friends. Then he stops. I just grew up, he says.
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I answered my phone. I’m eating a banana and reading a book, she says. I can hear her breathe. The blood rushes to my head. No. Not that one.
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She asks if she can use my toilet. What if I say no? I say, and she says, I’d probably pee right here. That kind of captures my imagination.
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The argument ends. I get up and pour myself a scotch. Then I pour one for her too. She says, It was never about love. I drink both scotches.
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I dreamed she tried to kill me and called her and told her about my dream and in the background I could hear her cleaning her Ginsu knives.
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