“How long have I known you?”

Pocket stands at the foot of the bed.

“How long have you known yourself?”

“I don’t.”

He sighs. “Ali…”

His expression suddenly changes. Shocked, then sad. I notice the tears streaming down my face. I wipe them away unnecessarily. It strikes me that I've never heard my name before.


The words come out mangled.

Pocket am I broken?”

He looks out the window at the grey sky.


There’s a long pause. He looks back and meets my eyes.

“But not for the reason you’re asking.”