The days are endless, but these nights—trapping myself inside that glass casket—are without measure or purpose. The only obligation I have is watching Pace’s bird while he’s out, so I take her down there with me, watching as she makes all these furious, clumsy attempts at flight. Over and over, she bats her wings, struggling to reach the highest branch of the camellia tree, but never quite making it. You and me both, pretty bird.
