I sat on a floor for about forty minutes with that photograph.

The second thing that happens is that your body decides before your head does.

Somewhere around midnight I stopped constructing theories about volunteers and my chest went and I was on my side on a concrete floor making a noise I did not know I could make, with a glass of wine tipped over and a dog scratching at the door from the kitchen side.

And the third thing — and this is the part I want to put down carefully, because I think it is the only useful thing in this entire account — is what happened at about one in the morning.