Reading Aloud

Есенин

The streetlight outside cut through the blinds in uniform strips. I lay on my back and didn't move, which was probably the best thing I could do at that moment. She shifted. I felt her weight redistribute across the mattress, felt her eyes on me. I knew that look. She was about to ask me something I didn't want to answer.

I had a list. Not written down, I'm not that organized, but I could recite it the way some guys recite batting averages: my brother's drinking, my best friend's crumbling marriage, my mother's loneliness since the divorce, a coworker's confidence problem that apparently only I could solve. Somewhere along the way, being useful had become my whole personality. Maybe my only personality.

A song

Бунин