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11.4.4

the election night party

During last night's election night party someone found a tiny slug in the bathroom. Together she and I coaxed it onto a torn scrap of the New York Times. Then I left the party and walked to the far end of the garden and held the paper perfectly still against the fence, until the slug had slid off it. It was pitch black out. All I could see was the irregular white shape of the paper and the slug like a tiny sunspot crossing it and vanishing into the darkness. The night air was chilly, and through the window our host's apartment looked yellow and warm. But the circle of faces that surrounded the TV was staring down at their laptops or at their shoes, not at each other.

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