This tiny thing that we do, I told her slowly, it is so tiny and so slow that we don't always know it's done until after it's done.
Yes, she said, and her head moved as she looked at me as if to say: No, don't look me in the eye, not until we're done.

And I said: This thing, this tiny thing, this tiny thing that we do, this thing is so tiny, and so retardedly slow, and so hard
for us to even think about, much less do anything to change, that we don't even try to think about it at all.

No, she said. No you don't know that, she said. This thing we do, she said, it isn't one thing, it's three. Thing one is you.
Thing two is me. And the thing itself, the thing we're doing right now, or what we were doing up until we slowed down,

That was thing three. If you say so, I said. I think you might be right. Oh yes, I think you are. Now don't stop, I said. Now don't stop now.