“He hasn’t been asleep, exactly, but he hasn’t been quite willing to get up either. What is there to do, after all? Make coffee, this late in the day? Find something to eat? Watch TV? Continue to contemplate the unchangeable mistakes he’s made? But when the bell rings a second time, he finally slides himself out from under the covers. He looks terrible, he knows—shirtless, barefoot, wearing only a pair of sweatpants, his eyes bleary with unsustained sleep, hair standing up in stiff tufts. He see...s himself in the mirror that hangs by the doorway, tries to pat his hair down a bit as the doorbell bongs its three descending notes again. “Screw it,” he whispers to his drawn, bleary face, and turns to throw open the front door. It’s Jonah—Jonah from work. They both stand there, hesitantly. Jonah is holding a grocery bag in each hand. “Hey,” he says, as if he is surprised that Troy has appeared at the door. “How’s it going?” he says. “Hey,” Troy repeats, and then they are silent again.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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