I should cry when my mother comes over to hug me, but I don’t. That’s not the feeling. The feeling is more like a geometry problem, not an impossible one, but the kind where you have to take a shape and turn it around, and apply logic, arithmetic, and the laws—what are they? They are written on chalkboards and copied in notepads, to be used when such a problem presents itself. Somewhere I have it written down.
