The Witness Line
And then I made myself sit back down and read the third sentence.
Part Three: Two Years of Five Minutes
I should say what he actually was to me, because everybody who hears this assumes one of two things and both of them are wrong.
He was not a project.
He was also not a friend.
He was a five-minute fixture of my morning for two years, which is its own category and which I do not think has a name.
I worked at an accounting firm on South Sixth Street.