The Witness Line
I visited nineteen times in twenty-one days.
I have counted.
I counted in the February, obsessively, off my calendar and my transit history, because I needed to know whether I had done enough and because I am the kind of person who thinks that is a question with a number in it.
Nineteen visits.
I know what I brought to every one of them.
Thick wool socks, three pairs, because the ones he had were thin.
A hygiene kit.