After

Renna came out at eighty-six seconds, on her own, no voice, no board, just her. She had felt the gallery go wrong and gotten herself clear. She did not need me. In the van afterward i could not stop shaking and Renna climbed in and saw it and did not ask. She just sat down next to me, close, the way you sit next to someone who held your life for ninety seconds and never told you how heavy it was. We don't write the van enough. The van is the whole job.