Exhibit A: Moist towelette, still pristine in its package

“Wash Away Your Sins,” the towelette reads. “Right your wrongs…with a wipe!” I bought the towelette at one of those stores that sells novelty items (sealing wax, ironic breath mints). I was seventeen, and the towelette was a present for an ex-boyfriend: Alex. At seventeen, we were into sin. We’d recently read Paradise Lost and copied key passages into our notebooks. I listened to Marilyn Manson and wore a bra strap choker. In the . . .