My toenail has blackened, and I have to pull to get it off. You’d feel it, so you would; it’s painful enough. I douse my foot in water, and I leave the nail by the side of the road, and on we go.
“What did you do?” she hissed.
“Me?”
“Don’t be a dick,” she said.
“That ship has sailed. Hang on. We can’t fight yet. Where’s my hug?”
“I don’t know if I can put it into words just yet, this feeling like something’s ending and I have to be close to it.”
