1. I am stalking our old house on Google Street View. Lawn, driveway, car. I am not sure if this view is from before, during, or after. You might still linger there behind the windows. If I could see in. These past months, you have vanished and vanished, and now I cannot follow.
I am waiting for Phil to tape my eyes closed, to get it over with. I have already applied cloudy-white ointment to the right eye and shut both eyes for the night, so when I flinch, I don’t see the look he gives me. He says, “I’m a real doctor, you know.”