someone who saw what I saw whenever he looked at the bodies of other men. I couldn’t be afraid or innocent, knowing what I knew about myself. I’d been looking for trouble, and I probably deserved whatever happened to me when I finally found it. Three minutes. I stood up from my chair and walked right through the question hovering in the air between my body and the body waiting for me in that restroom stall: What exactly did he see when he saw me?
