I would have to recondition the events for myself after much cross-examining and tall castle building.
I guess he could have done this for me, instead of putting the dregs in the green plastic bin, unambiguously pulling the bin out of its place and out onto the patch of concrete sidewalk.
He does this with a furrowed brow so that I’m lead to think he’s focusing on something other than the events, thereby making himself seem autonomous and indifferent.
This could have worked if I weren’t staring at the bin as though it would suddenly explode into space. Instead I scratch at my right ear, pulling and twisting the lobe, unaware of the kind of red marks I leave.