‘Can I have Kevin back please?’

I hated how wanting I sounded.

‘Kevin wasn’t panning out. He received a fine severance package.’

I glanced at the shelves and noticed where there were once three cans, there were now only two.

*

There were things happening out there in the world – history, events. But history was not happening in my town, not to me. I was just standing outside bars, without my coat, shoes and underwear, wondering where exactly they were because – sadly – I was not wearing them. My thoughts had reached a manic, fever pitch. I had taken to becoming a resigned passenger in cars that traversed the motorway; these were meaningless trips but I did not sleep well after them. I watched my old films on my phone, my legs curled up underneath me, my heart beating fast. All those devastating angles. I wanted them to be instructional, but they told me nothing about myself. I got weary simply fast-forwarding through them. The furniture was always wrong.

I watched early CCTV footage of Kevin and me, both of us sauntering around, looking oddly delighted in our own misery. It was amazing how little we did. I regretted not laying down in his lap when Management encouraged it; that was my true regret. I wondered when he knew it was his final shift, before or afterwards. I genuinely hoped it was after. I imagined myself, barefoot, sprinting down the motorway path after him.

I resolved to replace the light bulb and that became my daring project. With Henry’s assistance, I took a stepladder from the office in town and practised climbing up and down the three steps. I had never replaced a light bulb before. It was difficult work. I must have walked to the hardware shop, I must have put one achingly slow foot in front of the other, but I have no recollection of doing so. Suddenly, I was just there. I spent hours picking the perfect one; I had experience in the right wattage and what it could do for a scene. In the light bulb’s reflection, I was stretched and distorted to a stunning degree. On my way out, I heard the cashier advise a young lady to be careful while doing home renovations, but this did not apply to me.

*

On the day of the light bulb replacing, I felt an exciting charge like I was revved up. It was a special day, no doubt. I knew this because at the front door of the garage a new plant greeted me – a first-place pageant bow running around its black casing, its leaves in full bloom – a gift with no note, celebrating nothing.

‘Oh good,’ I said. ‘You got here just in time.’

I did not want to rush the task. I propped up the plant nearby to keep a close eye on me. I needed to take it easy, slow. It was important. I was a long way from the ground. I tried to steady myself while saying, ‘Woah, woah’. I caught only the bright tip of the wire as the ladder slipped from underneath me. And as I went hurtling through, all the way through the cement floors, everything – everything – looked familiar and enchanting.