I peel my fingernails in your face. Not really. I’m sorry. 

I left my fingernail on the floor of your bank, under your desk. 

I’m sorry, I was sitting there too long. I was nervous I guess, and didn’t want to put it in my pocket. 

Actually I just wanted to drop it and I did. 

Yes I know if everyone peeled off their fingernails and dropped them there, under your desk, as they waited for you to stamp their documents, it would be gross, so, so gross. If it was seen, if it was noted, if it was accounted for by someone. How gross is it if it’s a secret though? If it’s unseen. If God is not watching. That God, that nasty accountant God. Is it still a mess? A mess, a human mess, acceptable in the singular and gross in the plural. 

And so I really shouldn’t have dropped my fingernail. But I did. Honestly, I hope people don’t generally make a habit of dropping their fingernails under your desk. 

I offer you this small apology in writing.