So, there it was, if a memo came your way implying you were guilty or at fault about something, it was factual until an appropriate memo challenged such an assertion. After all, it was on paper now, and anything on paper magically became real, no matter how preposterous.
I lay in the center of the nest with the women curled on their sides around me like mother cats and every night they woke me up and carried me to the tub, which was always full with tepid water.
We stop. It’s at least ninety degrees outside and we are at an impasse. There is a boy in the road. He is wearing a puffy black coat. Gaines is silent, always silent. James speaks up, Jandi, Ogoff terra amie. He yells and raises his gun.
Robin thinks of going to work. Phones his office and tells them he’s sick. They try to sound understanding. Say they hope he’s feeling better by tomorrow. But both he and they are bored with this game.
Anna Monardo is the author of two novels, The Courtyard of Dreams (Doubleday, 1993), which was nominated for a PEN/Hemingway Award and recommended for a National Book Circle Award, and Falling in Love with Natassia (Doubleday, 2006).