End of the Rope
Dear Z, Around 3pm today, you sent me a text: “I’m pretty near the end of my rope.” A few hours later I arrived at home to find our living room rearranged – furniture pushed to the edges of our area rug – and you and J in the middle of it holding onto one another like shipwreck survivors in the middle of the sea. Our dog was acting in some ways like a shark, in some ways not. She…