It was probably a little unfair to Damian to say that I was astounded by this observation, but I was. In a word, he perfectly articulated the sensation. I felt somehow immaterial. As if, caught in a certain light, you could glimpse right through me. It was almost dizzying to feel untethered to the things that once bound me to my corporeality, my mortality; the things that had burdened and worn me down, and reminded me I was a limited, flesh-bound event on the planet. I felt somehow beyond myself, beyond time, beyond death; or at least those containers didn’t seem to concern me the way they once had.

But it’s dangerous, Damian said leaning towards me, voice lowered, suddenly serious. Because now we know. And you can be sure that they know that we know.

His words unsettled me as I unpacked my cart. He stood beside me waiting, as the cashier ran my items through. I couldn’t quite seem to dismiss his concern as I might have in the past. What if there were people, or forces in the world, that would seek to limit my access to this pleasure; this unlimited way of being? And if there were, who were they, and how would they intervene? It did seem to be the nature of our system that limits were imposed. Limits must always be imposed. Because something unlimited risked dismantling everything else that hemmed us in.

Hi, Ms. Devon. I looked up and realized the cashier was a former student of mine, Rory. He was a close friend of Kyle’s, or at least he was when I was still at school. He had a ratty face and demeanour, though he was probably a sweet enough kid out of class. He gave me a polite, perfunctory smile.

Hi, Rory. How are you?

I’m good, yeah.

Did you enjoy yourself at prom?

Yeah, it was good. Sorry again about the clock. I don’t know if Ashley mentioned.

He was lucky he had found me in such a blithe mood. I asked him if he had seen Kyle recently. He shook his head.

We’re not really talking much at the moment.

He then swallowed and looked back at his till, as he swiped through my Greek yogurt. Are you? he asked.

I pretended not to hear his question over the bleep of the scanner, and he didn’t ask it again. And I pretended not to know, or care, that he had probably had a hundred conversations with his friends about Kyle and me, and that he would pull out his phone to message them all the moment I walked away. I paid for my groceries and wished him a good summer. The sliding doors whooshed open as Damian and I stepped out of the aggressively air-conditioned supermarket into what felt like a physical wall of heat.