Nearby dogs howl, in the warehouse where they are the sole occupants. Like these dogs, like so many people these days, I crave the physical intimacy of friendship. Watching a friend braid her hair. The quirk of lifting one side of her lip at something amusing. The brief glance we exchange, when someone else is being naughty. The caress of a hand on my hand, communicating sympathy. Tenderness, in all its simple, multifarious, and necessary forms.

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