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Thirty Percent
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2026-10-29 08:00:00I didn't sleep on Wednesday night.
I lay in my childhood bed with the lamp on, reading Okafor's chart until the red clusters swam. At two I gave up and went down to the kitchen in my socks. My grandfather was already there, in his dressing gown, eating cold chicken out of the refrigerator with his fingers, which I had never in my life seen him do.
"Sit," he said. "You're letting the cold in."
I sat. He pushed the plate toward me. I took a piece.
"Kerr called me ton
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