Laying on her side like that, with her legs bent beneath the blanket and the flat of her feet pressed against my thigh, she looks like a diver made of felt, ready to spring from the couch without a splash. I’m playing games on my phone while she watches one of her cop dramas. The cameo commits the crime every time but she always acts surprised. After the arrest, she looks at me and says, ‘How come life is never that satisfying?’ I tell her it’s because there’s never any resolution, everything is just a middle until the end.

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