In the foyer of his home, the General confesses his emptiness to God. For the first time, James feels an unease within his own walls; it spreads in him like a mold or a malady, reaching out of him, blooming on his chest like a bloodstain. The blue light filtering through the curtains sends shadows into the corners, lending the high ceiling a sense of impending closeness. Without thinking, he curls in on himself as he slips into his coat. The plutonium secret, kept close to the chest: I am afraid.
He hears his husband’s footsteps just as he’s about to leave. As though possessed, he hangs in the doorframe, waiting. Locked onto the sound of Odet’s footsteps. All that is not her becomes blindspot. As she rounds the corner, he says, curtly: “ I’m leaving. I’ll be back before dinner. ”
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