UNTIL JOSEPH CAME, I stayed in my room, leaving only to eat dinner with my mother and Jackie. My mother asked if I was writing. This seemed like the best excuse for my reclusiveness, so I said yes. I fed my lung and played with it. It liked me to toss it in the air, grabbing on to whatever it could before it fell all the way to the ground. It was incredibly limber, like a cat. It could hide inside the smallest nooks and make itself as thin as a pancake. It could slide under doors and escape.
