Some people you can’t be friends with, not when you’ve been something more.

Moving into the hallway, I make the mistake of looking down. The floor seems to drop out from under me, with nothing solid to support me but my own reflection. I take a step, watching...

somewhere under the rage, there’s something human. barely.

… we [can] catch fish and just throw them back… it [doesn’t] seem to hurt the fish much past a cut lip. But then… one [may] swallow the hook…[it’d be] a goner, whether we tried...