3 in the AfternoonHappiness is when the door clicks shutat 3 in the afternoon and sunlightstalks in uninvited through the blinds,making a sepia mess of the room, and youare waiting, waiting, waiting, waitingin the sunken sofa cushion like a lostnickel looking to be found. The truth isyou found me, standing just insidethe doorway like a stray animal broughthome for the first time, imbalancedragged and confused. I stumbled on myselfthat first time, making more contactwith the floor, tables and walls than Idid with you. In some respects, that hasn't changed. I trip on my feet, walk into walls and door frames still, but every now an