HOLLY ANHOLT

Silence

WE HARDLY TALKED about what had happened between us. We didn’t “rehash” or think to start again.

Was our silence the proof, as Nils might have thought, that our conspiracy of guilt had fallen apart? Or of what Oksana in her borrowed, birdlike English said, two needy people shouldn’t hook up?

Maybe we were just stupidly brave and stoical.

And my anger, that magic bullet of mine? I could remember its name but not its feeling. I remembered it in sorrow.