Бойцовский клуб
Chapter 2
IpeekoutfromunderthearmpitofBigBob.
"Allmylife,"Bobcries."WhyIdoanything,Idon’tknow."
TheonlywomanhereatRemainingMenTogether,thetesticularcancersupportgroup,thiswomansmokeshercigaretteundertheburdenofastranger,andhereyescometogetherwithmine.
Faker.
Faker.
Faker.
Shortmatteblackhair,bigeyesthewaytheyareinJapaneseanimation,skimmilkthin,buttermilksallowinherdresswithawallpaperpatternofdarkroses,thiswomanwasalsoinmytuberculosissupportgroupFridaynight. ShewasinmymelanomaroundtableWednesdaynight.MondaynightshewasinmyFirmBelieversleukemiarapgroup.Thepartdownthecenterofherhairisacrookedlightningboltofwhitescalp.
Whenyoulookforthesesupportgroups,theyallhavevagueupbeatnames.MyThursdayeveninggroupforbloodparasites,it’scalledFreeandClear.
ThegroupIgotoforbrainparasitesiscalledAboveandBeyond.
AndSundayafternoonatRemainingMenTogetherinthebasementofTrinityEpiscopal,thiswomanishere,again.
Worsethanthat,Ican’tcrywithherwatching.
Thisshouldbemyfavoritepart,beingheldandcryingwithBigBobwithouthope.Weallworksohardallthetime.ThisistheonlyplaceIeverreallyrelaxandgiveup.
