The Dissolution of Marcus

Marcus stood on his fire escape, watching his neighbor's golden retriever chase its tail in the courtyard below. The dog's joy seemed obscene somehow—a bright, spinning wheel of happiness while Marcus's marriage dissolved in increments of five milligrams.

He'd started taking the vitamin D supplements because his doctor said his levels were critically low. That was three months ago, around the time Elena started staying late at the office. Now the orange bottle sat on his nightstand like a silent accusation, its contents dwindling alongside his dignity.

Inside, the cable box blinked 12:00, mocking him. They used to watch movies together—terrible romantic comedies that made them groan in unison, prestige dramas they'd discuss over wine. Last week, he'd caught her watching a show they'd started together, three episodes ahead, her face illuminated by the screen's cold blue light. She'd paused it when he walked in, but not quickly enough.

"It's just a show, Marcus."

"That's not the point."

Everything was transactional now. Conversations logged like expenses. Intimacy negotiated like terms of service. He'd suggested counseling; she'd said she was too busy. They'd had sex once in the past month—mechanical, efficient, utterly devoid of the messiness that used to make it real.

The dog below barked, sudden and sharp. Marcus watched the animal press its nose against the courtyard fence, whining for attention from someone—anyone. The raw need in that sound made his chest ache.

He went back inside and sat on the edge of the bed. Elena's pillow still smelled like her shampoo—coconut and vanilla, artificial warmth. The orange vitamin bottle caught the morning light through the blinds, throwing distorted shadows across the sheets like secrets.

Marcus took two pills instead of one. What did it matter anymore? He could feel himself becoming someone else, someone who measured affection in milligrams and connection in bandwidth. Someone who watched from fire escapes while life happened to other people.

Down in the courtyard, the dog had given up and curled into a circle, nose to tail, closed upon itself. Marcus understood the geometry of it perfectly.