Mark's day

Mark stands in the hall by the 2004 singlet at six in the morning and does not take it down. He walks to the kitchen and opens the drawer under the spare thermals and takes out the Manila envelope and puts it on the counter, next to the Woolworths receipt, where anyone who came into the kitchen would see it and where Mark would see it first. He does not open the envelope. He does not throw it out. He leaves it there, in plain sight, on the granite, between the fridge and the drawer. The shoulder is quiet. Mark makes a long black and stands at the counter and looks at the two objects, which used to be four steps apart and are now side by side.