I bought a tiny wind-up boxing kangaroo because I thought you weren’t coming back. You were 500 miles away, watching that band with the girl in it you’d dated years ago then left at the movie theatre when she said she didn’t like Punch-Drunk Love.Weren’t they on Letterman? Anyway, I made the cashier stutter when I looked at him in the way that earned me a “Fine as hell” from you on the Internet. His facial hair was elaborate. You’d have been proud. And walked into the night, dumb tear-soaked face in my hands.