"What's wrong?" he says.
I have a big tangled knot in my head, like a snarl of wool. How do I know which of the loose ends is the one that leads to the problem?
In his head he has a neat pattern, little streets signposted, red and blue cars driving on the correct side of the road, obeying traffic signals and the road code. If something was wrong with him, which there isn't, and I asked, which I don't, he could tell me.
"Nothing" I say.
I wonder if they make Johnson and Johnson's No More Tears for the mind?
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