A representation of oneself made by oneselfThe weekend passed without incident and I regained some of my equilibrium. My days stretched into their comforting rituals and the knotted tension in my chest relaxed.
Until Julia arrived on Sunday afternoon without warning, bringing with her a frightening cloud of doom which engulfed me in uncertainty and fear.
“Hey.” She used her key and clattered over the threshold. The door clicked shut behind her and I studied the overnight suitcase as she wheeled it across the floorboards. Its presence suggested she intended to stay, and I held my breath, not wishing to destroy the momentary hope. I lurked at the bottom of the stairs in my socks, hiding my fingers behind my back as I tapped out a series of three-beats against the left leg of my shorts.
Ju
