He wondered if she was right. She said it so matter if factory that he wasn’t sure if she was joking. She wasn’t. It was real. It was unvarnished. And her words didn’t feel like she punched him in the balls, he would have asked out on the spot, tskem her for dinner, proposed before dessert, but, obviously that was not how this story was tying end.

He knew it that moment. Knew it through his entire body, every muscle, every fiber. In that moment doubt vanished. All doubt. Every single trace. Nothing left but certainty. Pure, unfettered certainty. He wasn’t altogether unexpecting the moment but then again it would be inaccurate to say that he was expecting it. Somehow it arrived. Right then. In that minute. And nithing had even been so clear, so unabashedly simple. He knew it as she walked around the corner from the small galley kitchen and stood in the living room, where he was, on the couch, half watching Sat morning TV. She stood in front of the window, the grey morning light flooding the apoartment. In one hand she held the plastic tie of a six pack, six rings, perfect circles, or perfect nooses for the right size animal unlucky to get caught. I her other hand a pair of scissors. Birds get stuck she said and began to sever the circles. And he knew. Fully and completely. That he was in love.

I may break up with her. Break up with her? What are you talking about? You know, I just don’t think it’s there. What’s there. I don’t know tgat thing, that thing that has to be there for it to work. Wait, wait wait. Isn’t this the girl who answers the door naked when you go to her place. Well, isn’t it? Yes. Isn’t this the girl who lives to try new stuff whenever you guys go out? Good, you guys went to the ballet and the opera. And she loved them, right? Yes. And you dnjoy her company right, She’s cool to hang out with. She is, absolutely cool. So what’s the problem. Man? God you got what everybody wants and you calling it quits? I already told you it’s not working? I have no idea what you are talking about? Is the sex bad. No it’s pretty fucking great. Did she steal from you? No. Does she chew with her mouth open? No. Does she hit on other guys? No. Dude, fuck, help me out here, please, okay, if you must know I don’t think she is smart enough. Smart enough? Yeah, you know, smart enough. No I don’t know, I have no idea what you are talking about right now. What you mean not smart enough? It sounds dumb. I know I just have this feeling, like I can’t shake it, every time I with her i , I just don’t think she’s as smart as me. What you have some kind of Nobel prize that I don’t know about ? You are some roads scholar list that I didn’t see. Last time I checked your fucking GPA was like 2.6? 2.8! Oh 2.8 wow okay so you’re clearly Einstein. who could ever measure up to that towering intellect. I am not Einstein. Never said I was. No but clearly you’ve decided that you are the brains of the operation. She went to university right. YeAh, UofT, she graduated right? Yeah, polo sci. And she’s working days as a hygienist right and nights at the restaurant? Yes. That takes schooling man. You need training for that. No I know, I just, I wish it were something more cut and dry. Like cheating? Exactly, I wish it were cheating, wait, you wish that it was her with some other dude as the reason? Yes. No you don’t. I really do. I wish that. Why? Cause it’s clean, and this is not. Because now I have to break up with her and I have no idea what to say. Tell her the truth. The truth? I can’t tell her that? Why not, you told me. You are not her. I have to tell her something else. What. I don’t know, I will think of something. It’s going to suck. It is. It very much is.

Hey Samantha, its Dan. Yeah, we met at jays party I’m the tall guy. No he thought. No no no. No passion. Let’s try this again. Samantha! Dan! How you going? Ian great too, thanks. We met at Kays party. How you going? He would never say that. Never. Loved it but it’s not him. Surely dshe could hear that level of insincerity; that note of inauthenticness in his voice no matter how hard he smiled. Sam? Dan. We met at the party. Who says she goes by Sam. Jesus, he thought at least say her full name. Sammy…it’s Danny. He said in a falsettomickey mouse.

You don’t remember me, she said. And he couldn’t. Her voice sounded so familiar. Her eyes, green, surely he thought I could not forgot those should he have ever come to know them. “Sorry, he said, should I? I fo believe so she said. Can you give a hint he asked, draining the last of his old fashioned, already becoming tired of this game. Joseph Lake, summer of 2009. He stared at her for a moment, His brain reeling through all the times he had ever been away to Muskoka (only a handful) and all the times he had gone to Joseph Lake which had been exactly once. Stayed with his brother and his wife and his nephews for two nights. I do beg your pardon he said, I believe you have me confused with somebody else. Enjoy the party. He turned toward the direction of the bar. You are really going to be like that? She said. You are going to pretend that you don’t know me. I don’t have to pretend he said, as I have just told you I think you have me confused with some one else. Is that right Daniel Timothy O’Connor? What did you just call me? He said. You heard me Timmy, she said, taking the stick with olives out of her martini and removing one with her teeth. Nobody ever called him that anymore.

It dangled around his neck. Hung over his chest. Two long strands of French silk, one thick the other thin. Both the color of gold bricks in the movies when the thieves ron them from the vault. It cost $375 “But if your going to have just one tie…” the salesmen had reminded him. The salesmen who had so deftly picked it from a display case who carried so gingerly in both hands so it not to fall or break, the way one might carry an expensive bottle of wine or perhaps a baby bird. The salesmen who waited for Dan’s acknowledgement before saying “Allow me, sir” and slipping the tie over Dans neck and tied a perfect Windsor knot faster than he nines was possible before straightening the knot slightly, sweeping lint off of Dan’s shoulder and stepping out of the way so Dan could see himself in the full length mirror. The tie was miraculous, It hung straight as a golden arrow. Stopped just above his belt buckle. So light Felt as if it wasn’t even there. He thought this is the way presidents must feel, or lords, dukes? Earles? Wondering if he was English and had an estate in turn of century England what moniker he would bare. But $375 he thought, A thought which disappeared completely when, Dan having not replied tot the salemens first inquiry tried again. “Does it meet with your satisfaction, Sir” “It’s perfect” Dan said. And he believed it as the salesmen wrapped the tie in crinkly blue paper and put it in the small bright orange bag, as he drove home thinking about the formal dinner party, not a usual third date, the way she had said so casually, as if an afterthought, oh and you need to wear a tie, as he had hung it round his neck, under the starched white collar, but now, as he held one strand of French silk in either hand he was at sa complete loss for how they were suppose to knot together.

The clock struck one. Not exactly. A rather fanciful way to say it really. More accurately the Apple Watch on his wrist vibrated a quick short bust of shaking the way it does at the top of every new hour. The face kite up only for a moment 1:09 said the digital display. Only one he thought. Felt like he had been sleeping forever. Truth was it had been less than an hour since he got home to his recently cleaned apoartment with clean rugs and fresh sheets, just in case, but alas, it was not to be.

It came through the post. Something so rare and mysterious. Not advertising, not flyers, not junk mail. An envelope. Stiff. Proper. Cream colored. His name and address scrawled in precise cursive on the front. A red stamp of an old biplane in the right hand corner. He held it in his hand. The envelope was slightly textured. Not exactly smooth in his hand, like a million tiny tiny ripples, teeny tiny waves rippling against his skin. Why the urge processed him, he did not know, but he brought it close to his nose. Inhaled the rippled papyrus It smelt faintly of lavender and perhaps pine. Sort of a blend between fancy soap and Christmas. He turned the envelope around to open it. The flap sat flush against the back. There was purchase for his fingers to tear open, which suddenly and strangely felt to what primal? Savage? Heathen like? For such an action. He made his way into the kitchen. Searched the drawers for a pea ring knife to make the delicate incision across the top of the envelope. And wondred, why in gods name had he not ever thought to buy a proper letter opener.

It’s a boot she said, though it was obvious to Dan who stood up and attempted an awkward hug when she arrived at the table on the patio. Yeah, wow, are you okay? Yes. No big deal really, I will tell you all about it, she said. The waiter pulled out her chair and she sat down. It’s nice to see you he said. You too she said and smiled. It’s my toe she said. Your toe? Feels like a lot of boot for just a toe. You know how many people say that? Sorry, you must be really tired of hearing that. It’s okay, she said. He sighed, took a breadth, and wanted a scotch. That was so dumb he thought. God, we are like five minutes in and I am already apologizing. Relax, he told himself RE-LAX. I had my toe…”Hello folks, sorry to interrupt, my name is Stacy and I will be taking care of you tonight. They both nodded. Have you been here before? Yes she said and no he said at exactly the same time, wow, okay, said the waitress welcome back she said looking at her and welcome she said to Dan. Can I get you some water – sparkling or still? – while you think about drinks. Sparkling? Dan asked. She raised her eyebrows. Sparkling then he said trying to sound more authoritative more confident, more sure. L than he had a moment ago. Not exactly asking permission but something not far from it. Relax he thought Re-Lax. My toe she continued. He smiled. I had it amputated. C’mon he said and smiled. No really she said. For real? Yes, for real. Why? He asked. I don’t want to get into all the details. We haven’t eaten, we should eat first. Okay he said, thinking about all her other toes if they were curved or curled, or long like piano players fingers, if she had a long big toe or a short one, if nails were painted, and if they were shat color they may be. If he could fit them all in his mouth. Did you hear me she asked. Sorry, what, he said. Apologizing for the second time and they hadn’t even ordered drinks. Re-lax he though relax. I asked you a question she said, he nodded. So? She asked. Yes? He said. Did you hear me? Sorry no, I didn’t. Fuck, apology number three he thought. And as he still desperately tried to remember her question, not sure why he was even bothering, Stacy appeared with two glasses, placed one in front of each of them and began pouring from a bottle of sparkling water. Have you had a chance to think about drinks she asked. Scotch double meat, laphroig if you got it, anything else top shelf if you don’t. He said articulating the thought that had been careening around his brain since he sat down. Very good she said and for you? Dirty Martini she said. Hendricks. God, had he really ordered first? What is wrong with me. Maybe, just maybeshe didn’t notice he told himself. I like your shirt she said. Thank you, he said his cheeks starting to blush, a reaction he had to compliments his whole life, worsened by the words interrupting the thought about a potential toe ring. Wait he thought, you have been here before? A few times, yes. The linguini alle vongole us to die for. Clams he thought and his eyes squinted and corners of his mouth pulled down and his nose wrinkled, nostrils slightly flared in disgust Clams?! He thought again this time speaking the word out loud. What’s wrong with clams? She asked. Nothing he said wY too fast way too defensively. Not a thing. Okay, she said. Fine, he said, oh my god are we fighting he thought. We are. When the drinks arrived she took sip, looked at her watch. And excused herself to use the ladies room. He felt the warmth on his lips, the glow as it slide down his throat and warmed him to his core. He was at that moment sure about two things, single malt is a gift to mankind and she was not coming back.

The darkness is coming. No, fuck that, the darkness is here. You wear it like the blight. It burrows into your skin. It scampers around your mind. It won’t ket you sleep. It barely lets you breathe. It takes pieces of you every night. One then the next. So Slowly and so deliberately that You can’t even feel yourself disappearing. As if you had always, in some small way, been leaving us.