She Smiles.her Teeth Are Crooked. If I

He Bends Over To Untie His Shoes. “so, Have You Been Ostracized From Your Little Crowd Of Devotees?” “no,” I Say Automatically. Then I Add, “maybe. But They Aren’t My Devotees.” “please. They’re Like The Cult Of Four.” I Can’t Help But Laugh. “jealous? Wish You Had A Cult Of Psychopaths To Call Your Very Own?

I Get Up, Because I’m Supposed To, But If It Were Up To Me, I’d Stay In My Seat For The Rest Of Time.

That Dot Covers All The Places We've Ever Been. You Could Cut That Piece Of Land Out Of The Ground And Sing It Into This Ocean And No One Would Even Notice. I Feel That Fear Again, The Fear Of My Own Size. 'right. So?' 'so? So Everything I've Ever Worried About Or Said Or Done, How Can It Possibly Matter?' He Shakes His Head. 'it Doesn't.' 'of Course It Does,' I Say, 'all That Land Is Filled With People, Every One Of Them Different, And The Things They Do To Each Other Matter.

In The Days That Follow, It's Movement, Not Stillness, That Helps To Keep The Grief At Bay.

My Body Rises With The Water. Instead Of Kicking My Feet To Stay Abreast Of It, I Push All The Air From My Lungs And Sink To The Bottom. The Water Muffles My Ears. I Feel Its Movement Over My Face. I Think About Snorting The Water Into My Lungs So It Kills Me Faster, But I Can't Bring Myself To Do It. I Blow Bubbles From My Mouth. Relax. I Close My Eyes. My Lungs Burn.