I didn't call her

Brett asked me today how long I have been doing this. Six years. I said it like it was nothing. But it is six years since the pool. Six years of pie shops and cliff walks and a ute that smells like wet dog.

He was a good bloke. Easy pace. Good questions but not too many. I liked that.

I thought about Carly the whole way home. About Thursday. I had the phone in my hand at a red light. Then I put it back down.

I walked in. Her singlet is still in the hall. The receipt is on the fridge. I just walked past it.

I am tired of being the one who fixes things. I would rather do than feel. That is the truth and I do not love it about myself.

I ate the pie cold, standing up, in the dark.