Because you could never remember whether a copse was a group of trees or a clearing in a group of trees, we met by the bridge. It was raining a fine rain and we stood awkwardly in our uniforms, watching each other’s hair collect its small burden of water. You spoke first and I was relieved. Frankly, I always have to do the work and so your speaking first was welcome and unexpected. I thought, I have worn myself to ribbons making things easy for you. I thought, I am too spent to be jovial and accommodating. There were things to be said but they had vicious little barbs like the penises of foxes and so we talked chiefly of friends and lodgings and we remembered the antics of our kitten. She is now a cat, of course, I said, which wasn’t true. She had died in March of a ruptured trachea. I thought of our kitten which had become my cat and I wanted to yip lonelily in darkness then. I hope you understand why I turned away and began to walk along the road and why I couldn’t answer when you used my name over and over, demonstrating the four sentence types perfectly with only my name.