“So, correlation or causation, Rosen? That’s what I’m still trying to work out”
“SO,Nachum said, “another date, another Dexamol?” My roommate’s voice was only coming from the living room, but the pounding in my head made it sound miles away.
“What’d you say?” I muttered, standing in our dirah kitchen over an open box of painkillers and looking down at the little yellow pill in my hand.
“I’m merely noting a pattern,” Nachum’s voice continued from that same faraway place, “January 29th; February 7th, 15th, 18th, 23rd, and 28th”—he sounded like he was reading off of a list—“March 5th, 8th, and today. You know what those days have in common, don’t you?”
Though my headache was making halos form around our kitchen light, I could still discern the outline of Nachum’s blond head through the doorway; it was bent over a microscope on the cluttered desk in our living room.
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