“There’s just one small problem.” Her fingers trail through my hair. “What’s that?” she asks. “My legs don’t work.” Tallulah laughs. “I’m serious,” I tell her, exhaling heavily as I push up on my elbows. “God, this is euphoria, isn’t it? I feel like those cows just let out of the barn after winter.” Tallulah blinks up at me. “What?” “In Sweden, the cows, they’re kept inside all winter, and it’s a whole day, everyone gathers to see it, when they let them out in spring. Much like my rather speedy performance, those happy fuckers sprint out of the barn, leaping and bounding—as well as cows
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