“It’s constant, with you. It’s too much,” Tom said, his voice cracking. “You’re too much, Queenie.” I opened my mouth to speak but closed it again. “Hope you get home okay,” he said, turning to walk away. “Do you know what?” I shouted behind him. He stopped walking. “I hope your next girlfriend is white, Tom. That way she won’t be too fucking much for you.” He stood still for a second before continuing on, disappearing into the darkness.
