Good Night, James

When we're done with each other, we know exactly which one of us has been used, and it isn't me. Good night, James."

I hung up and took the stairs, deciding the twenty-floor descent would serve double-duty as both an avoidance technique and a replacement for a visit to the gym.

I was so grateful to be home after the day I'd had that I practically danced through my apartment's front door. My heartfelt "God, it's good to be home!" and accompanying spin was vehement enough to startle the couple on the couch.

"Oh," I said, wincing at my own silliness. Ellie wasn't in a compromising position with her guest when I barged in, but they'd been sitting close enough to suggest intimacy.

Grudgingly, I thought of James Thomson, who preferred to strip all intimacy out of the most intimate act I could imagine.