Jimmy is contemplating office supplies while I am contemplating fear. I have not walked alongside fear in a very long time, and I find it oddly comfortable to be experiencing it again. As he decides whether or not his file folder selections will be multi-colored or themed, I am having a mental tea party with an old friend. I’d almost forgotten how it feels when your heart races. And the way nausea creeps through your body. And the way you’re suddenly prickling everywhere with sweat.
He catches me looking and lifts the office supply magazine as if my glance was nothing more than casual interest. “I’m thinking maybe I should stick with black.” He points, as if it would be possible to see the tiny pictures from where I sit. “Keep everything professional, you know?”
Before I can stop the wor
