I slept until 1 and puttered around the house, anxious, I went to dinner with Leah, the month had been a blur and we had not seen each other. Since the last time, she had become a calmer-earth version of herself and I a more bitter tungsten version of myself. We went to an Ethiopian restaurant where she had a Groupon. It was beautiful and the food was good. We were the only people inside. The waitresses were made up and gorgeous. My tired brain hit the corners of my skull. One of the waitresses was smiling at me often and sweetly. When she returned with the water pitcher she leaned over me and looked me up and down. That's a nice...tattoo, she said. Her gaze lingered. The tiramisu didn't taste like tiramisu. The restaurant didn't feel Ethiopian.

The marathon is over, but the consequences linger. 

We went to Half-Price Books, after, and I was inundated with St. Paul memories in the basement. I ran into Demecia. Seattle is a small, town, after all.

It is my one year anniversary of moving here, today.