“The mark should probably be in here”, Richard says, speaking my mind.
“What do you think the mark looks like?”, I ask, showing him the mark again.
He goes silent. “Oh sorry, I forgot there’s a limit to what you can say”.
“Nah, it’s not that. I’m trying to remember the name marks like this are called”. He taps his chin, his face squeezed in concentration. I wait patiently as he tries to remember whatever it is he wants to remember. After a few minutes, he groans in frustration, rubbing his palm on his face.
“I can’t remember, Damn it!”.
“It’s alright, you’ll remember when you least expect to. So, the mark?”.
“Yeah”, he moves closer and looks at it. Then lifts up his finger and starts to trace the mark. I flinch and he pauses. “Does it hurt?”. He asks, worried.
“A little”, I lie. T
