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Now she’s saying that he’d never have suggested such a thing when they were first dating, when he was deeply in love with her.

“It’s a bad sign,” she says.

He replies drily, “You’re out of your mind, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“You’re always going your own way these days. I don’t …

I’ve seen several small cities alone while he recovered in a hotel room, while he slept pallid in the bed, coated with sweat under the covers.

But he’s never amounted to much, he remains puerile and full of complaints, in spite of his middle-aged man’s body.

The new light disorients, the fulminating nature overwhelms, and the air, dense with pollen, bothers my eyes