He thinks he remembers it well, but that’s the lie his brain has chosen for him, because of all the other possibilities, it’s the only one that might end up keeping him alive. Ivan is a skinny young man because he’s made the dubious choice to move away from liquor and to pills so beautiful they make his heart ache. At least, that’s why he thinks he’s crying, and his brain is either too kind or too disorientated to tell him the truth about the beautiful woman with red hair and snake tattoos that he never went to the bar. Ivan sits on the couch and shuffles a pack of cards over and over, soothed by the movement and the noise they make as they slide past each other, trying to ignore the mulberry-and-cream-colored capsule that has fallen on his shoe.
It was a pale month.
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