It was late. The music had stopped. I asked her, I don’t entirely know why, to ask me something. She asked me about one of the most intimate experiences of my life. I told her the truth.
I was now standing in the middle of the room; I felt very stupid. Despite my protests, she came over and put her arms around me. We stood there for a while, hugging. She said, and I could hear her tongue clicking in her mouth:
Dan. I’m so sorry.
Janet sighed on the couch behind us. The green galaxies of the universe spun above us. Inside our brains it was easy to imagine them imagining each other, our mirror neurons, like sparks at the start of an electrocution.