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I read, but I was thinking about Michelle. I knew it was up to her to take action. All I could do now was hope, and wait.
Around 3 a.m., thank you, Lord, I heard faint footsteps in the hall, followed by a very soft knock at the door. Instant wood.
(Illustration by Mitch Handsone)
“Come in.”
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“I . . . couldn’t sleep . . .”
The zipless part of Jong’s zipless fuck was so called because “zippers fell away like rose petals, underwear blew off in one breath like dandelion fluff.” Michelle was wearing only a long white T-shirt, and I was wearing nothing, so devout ziplessness was moot; but after Michelle stepped toward me and I pulled back the sheets, we rendered something perhaps too tender to qualify as zipless, but something truly pure, something rare and simple.
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