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Lou looked at me with enormous, sorrowful eyes. “I’m inherently sad, Jim. I have a feeling you understand that about me.”
Yes, but how about you tell me right now? Tell me everything and I will bear it with you and make it my own.
“Oh, you know. I’m thinking I might just go and ruin everything.”
After all, we had already learned that you should not do at night what you cannot manage in the bright, revealing light of day.
When I saw his name flash across the phone screen, I wanted to lick the peanut butter–coated knife I had just used at the exact moment I developed a deadly nut allergy. Then I wanted to impale myself on said knife, just in case someone produced an EpiPen too soon.
