I balked when he told me this. You can never know who will cheat. I was the first woman he'd loved other than these two women he'd made wives. He called me his miracle as I said, his first and surely his last. I remained very very still when he told me that and accepted what he said.
Irony lives to assert the gap.
Its pleasure is derived from when the audience claps. This man had never heard of such a show. He said as much. One night, before I knew I would be leaving his country, this country where irony had no enduring place, we parked his car by the side of a dark road. Someone drove by that night and the headlights from the car hit us and bathed us in a flash of white light.