Friends called from London. “What are you doing all day?” they asked. Nothing was the honest answer, though I could hardly tell them that. Discipline is a muscle and mine was beginning to waste. The days stretched before me, long and formless. I thought idly about my book, and took myself shopping. I got my nails done and my hair fixed, as if I were my own kept wife. I gave myself new names. When I bought coffee, I’d say it was for Hadley (H-a-d-l-e-y, I’d sing out, with preemptive clarity). When I ordered taxis, I’d say they were for Saskia. On Tinder, I was Elodie.