Paul Takes the Form of a Mortal Girl

by Andrea Lawlor

Paul could make himself be attracted to anyone. This was one of his virtues. This was one of his virtues and one of his skills. He practiced, as a kid and later in life, in elevators, but the game could be played anywhere one was trapped with people. The game consisted of a single question: If you had to fall in love with (by which Paul meant have sex with) one person in this elevator, who would it be? He played the elevator game in every class he ever took, on the bus, in straight bars, in subway cars, in waiting rooms, free clinics, the line at a movie theater, dinner out with a group of friends-of-friends. He sometimes played the elevator game with Jane, a silent communion of eyebrows and squints or—more likely—a fast-talking, low-murmured loop around the bar, marking targets. Jane was his favorite companion for this; she didn’t judge. Most of his life he had played alone. The game was best when hard, when he had to sell himself on a stranger.