His teammate, taller, blond, the number seven on his jersey leaned against the boards next to me with the specific confidence of someone who has never been told a bad idea was bad. "You're the journalist," he said."That's me," I said."Kowalski." He stuck out his hand.I looked at his hand. Then at him. "The rut," I said.He looked confused. "What rut?""The east wall. Tuesday resurfacing.""Oh." Recognition landed on his face, followed immediately by the look of someone who has decided the best move is to not fully engage with this line of questioning. "Yeah, that's what kind of happens.""It really doesn't, actually," I said."Blades catch sometimes""Not like that," I said pleasantly. "Not in the same place three weeks running."Kowalski opened his mouth, then made the wise decision to close it. He had the expression of someone reassessing who, exactly, they had decided to introduce themselves to. "I'm just going to" he gestured vaguely at the ice."Good talk," I said.He left. I
最終更新日 : 2026-06-12 続きを読む