I remember thinking, It’s over. He can’t touch it now.
Now it was in pieces on my living room floor.
Ezoic
I reached toward the broken frame again. I wanted to pick it up. Gather the glass. Hold it the way you’d hold something that was hurt.
Then I stopped.
My lawyer’s voice came back to me. Claire had said it to me at least fifty times over eight months, so often it had started to feel like a prayer.
Photograph everything.
So I did.
I sat back on my heels, and I took out my phone, and I photographed everything.
Ezoic
The holes in the walls. All three of them. Close up, and from across the room, so you could see where they were. I put my hand beside one for scale.
The faucets. The water pooled around the bathroom sinks. The soaked bathmat. The fogged kitchen window. The water stains already spreading on the bathroom floor.
