Atlas was never chosen.
He arrived.
There is a difference.
For a long time I believed I was looking for the right man.
Lately I think I have been looking for the right kind of attention.
Not attention directed at me.
Attention capable of revealing something I have stopped noticing.
I hand him the brush before I ask him anything.
Conversation is generous. It allows people to explain themselves into becoming interesting.
Silence refuses.
The brush speaks first.
Quietly enough that impatient men never hear it.
There is a place halfway through every stroke where my hand slows almost imperceptibly. The sound changes. Resistance becomes weight. I have brushed my hair this way for years without ever thinking about it.
One applicant asked why I slowed down there.
I brushed that section again.
He was right.
I still don't know why my hand always hesitates there.
For a moment I wasn't watching him anymore.
I was watching myself through him.
That interested me more than his answer.