He Timed My Final Breath

On the eve of the holiday weekend, the company held its annual lakefront retreat. After dinner, the organizers rolled out a party game called "Blind Date Roulette."

Whoever you drew from the glass fishbowl, you were bound to for twenty-four hours as a faux couple.

My boyfriend, Damian, dipped his hand into the bowl and drew a slip of paper. The paper was thin, backlit by the neon patio lights, and through the fiber I could clearly see my own name written in my tidy handwriting.

For one suspended second, our eyes met.