Miko nodded at me. She had an apartment in London Terrace Gardens. She'd thought of purchasing in one of the corner units but had stuck to an apartment. Sometimes she liked it, sometimes she said she didn't.
But what intrigued me most about Miko at the moment wasn't where she lived or how she lived or even that she'd nursed me back to health, it was that she was telling me she dragged me out of the Hudson River.
Now I had no problem picturing Thomas Friedman dumping my body in the river, I just didn't see why he would bother after pushing me off the roof because surely that would have killed me.
Only it didn't.
And why that was, I couldn't understand.
If Miko knew, she wasn't telling. I wasn't sure whether that was do to some language barrier or what. Since I'd awoken, there were times when she communicated beautifully but other times when she begged off insisting she didn't understand.
There was a lot I wasn't understanding as well. So we sipped organic hojicha tea in silence.
"Iraq snapshot" (The Common Ills):