The Supplements We Swallow

The fox appeared at twilight, threading through the chain-link fence of the apartment complex where Marcus had lived—where they had lived—for three years. It moved with that fluid, boneless grace of wild things that have adapted to city edges, stopping to regard him with amber eyes that seemed to hold centuries of accumulated indifference.

Marcus stood on his third-floor balcony, his bare feet cold against the concrete, clutching his iPhone like a talisman. Three missed calls from her mother. Two texts from his sister, each progressively more concerned about where he'd gone. He'd turned off the location sharing two days ago, a small act of rebellion that felt enormous in its cowardice.

Inside, on the kitchen counter, sat the new bottle of vitamin D supplements Dr. Patel had insisted he start taking. "Your levels are critically low," she'd said, not looking up from her clipboard. "It explains the fatigue, the brain fog." He'd nodded, thinking: that's not low vitamin D. That's grief wearing a medical costume.

The fox below trotted toward the parking lot, pausing to sniff something in the weeds. He wondered if it had a mate somewhere. If foxes mourned. If they felt that particular hollow ache that lived behind the sternum, where swallowing felt like choking on something that wasn't there.

His phone buzzed again. Not a call this time—an email from HR. His return-to-work discussion was scheduled for Thursday. They'd been understanding, in that corporate way that managed to be both sympathetic and impatient. Three months of bereavement leave was generous, wasn't it? Time to swim back to the surface.

Swimming. He'd taken up swimming at the YMCA, something about the silence of being underwater, the muffled world where nothing could touch him. The vitamin supplements rattled in his pocket when he moved. He'd forgotten to take today's dose. Maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he'd let himself stay low, stay in the dark where everything was softer, where the fox's amber eyes couldn't find him.

But the fox was already gone, vanished into the urban dusk, and his phone screen lit up with another notification. The world demanded its due. Marcus swallowed the vitamin dry.