Something about him disturbs me– the way he walks, how his calculating blue eyes take in everything around him in one rapid swoop, the weird hours h... keeps- but my landlady says he’s a Good Guy. I catch him one day, helping her climb the stairs. He doesn’t speak to her but he gives her a smile before he walks away. I wouldn’t know what a Good Guy looks like, but I’ll take her word for it. + Everything goes in slow motion– cars passing in the street, mosquitoes buzzing in my ear at night,. “Oh! You mean like this morning when I washed you? Didn’t you want me to do that? I’m sorry.”“No!” I sighed. “That was fine.”I thought about it and shrugged.“I guess I didn’t mind that. You were fine. I just wish I didn’t get like that in the first place. It bothers me, sometimes, that I get so completely helpless that my family has to wash me and dress me and everything. But I figured, with you being tied up, you could get to find out what it feels like. It’s like a metaphor for what my life. More

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