They know how to share this space. There is no longer any ambiguity about which sections belong to the woman and which sections belong to Kendra’s son. They no longer participate in quarrels of any kind.

In the night, they pretend to touch each other. From their designated and remote spaces they pretend to kiss, they pretend to whisper things. They reach out for each other’s fingers.

The woman is undressing in the corner; she removes the bloody jeans.

The mark is momentarily hidden from view as she shifts the jeans over her backside, down her thighs, to her knees. She hesitates for a moment around the knees, and then the jeans are around her shins, calves, turning inside out around her ankles.

Finally, after some time, she is successful in their full removal, and the mark becomes visible from the inside, a dark burgundy speck. Then it disappears again as the material is crumpled and thrown, close to where Kendra’s son stands, halfway through the opening of the floor.

The mark of blood is so close to Kendra’s son.

The woman has a body she is not proud of, but Kendra’s son thinks it’s the best body he’s ever had the pleasure to encounter, and he cannot help his erection.

The woman turns—her face is not the face you would expect for the body that accompanies it. But it is an interesting face, unexpected even, and Kendra’s son enjoys it.

The woman fits her body neatly into the farthest corner, still standing, and brings her shoulders together. The woman stares up at the ceiling.

It’s not a space someone would think to fill, the corner of a room, but Kendra’s son can see how comfortable it might be. Whenever the woman fills one of the corners, he’s startled by the corner’s ability to gather a body—an embrace.

Kendra’s son sometimes thinks he is missing out by having chosen the larger central space within the room, and he misses having the option of leaning against the corner, or touching the corner with the heel of his hand, or of placing his leather boots in the corner.

It seems the woman has not yet noticed his presence. In fact, Kendra’s son has not found the courage to emerge fully from the opening in the floor. He looks at the woman from his crouched position, from this nucleus.

Kendra’s son tries to stare at the same spot on the ceiling that the woman seems to be focused on, and they remain like this for some time. It is quiet moments like these that Kendra’s son enjoys most of all, the stillness of them, and he reminds himself again of how lucky this arrangement is for them both.

Kendra’s son is lost within his own thoughts.