"Have you been talking to someone else?"
"Why are you leaving like this?"
"Tell Brad, congratulations. Maybe someday I will have more to offer you. I'm bowing out. Let's just leave this with mutual respect for each other."
It feels like poison has drained from my head and out from under my toenails. I think I remember crying as I separated from it. This morning the glowing goo boiled on the floor boards, exposed, disoriented. It hissed, it bowed out.
Clearly, goo (even the glowing kind) does not have any brains without a host.
That was no bow.