The following version of this story was used to create the guide: Davis, Lydia. "Break It Down." The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis. Picador, 2009. Pages 17 - 24.

In Lydia Davis's short story, "Break It Down," an unnamed man sits staring at a piece of paper. He is determined to account for the expenses associated with his recent affair. He begins by listing the costs of his ticket, the hotel, and the food and alcohol he and his lover consumed. However, the more he thinks about their time together, the more he realizes these are not the things that gave their time together value.

The narrative then shifts into the second person point of view as the narrator attempts to describe the intimate details of the 10 days he spent with the lover. He insists that every glance and touch they shared added value to their holiday. The sex they had nearly every night added similar worth. The more he thinks about it, the more significant these intimacies seem. He decides that because of all the days and hours they spent in each other's company, the trip did not cost as much, financially, as he originally thought.

No matter what they were doing together, or where they were, the man felt constantly surprised. He marveled at her body, at her skin and hair. Even when they were supposed to be sleeping, the man was consumed by her. His dreams slipped into spaces he did not know were inside him. Though they were pleasant, he was desperate to stay awake and stare at the lover beside him. He wanted to touch her, but did not want her face to look displeased, as if she had already forgotten him. He would content himself with simply observing her form. Often he was unable to maintain consciousness. He worried sleeping would make him lose her.

Though more than a month has passed since they were together, the affair has not ended for the man. The feeling of being with the woman remains inside him. It is as if her life and spirit have infected him. Though, now that he thinks about it, he is losing his memories of her. The memories are like rapidly fading pictures. There is one, for example, where he and the woman went to a coffeehouse. The white space amplified her beauty. There is another memory where he fumbled when she asked him about her appearance. Then there is the memory where she lay with her mouth in his ear talking endlessly. On this night, he thought he could live forever with her talking like that.

Now, in the present, the memories are disappearing. He cannot help thinking about them because he does not want to lose them. Yet, he also knows that thinking about them could ruin the memories. They keep returning no matter what he does. When they cease to appear, nagging questions take over his mind. The questions gradually turn to a weighty pain. Sometimes the man wonders if he will ever be able to escape his sorrow.

The thought of his pain makes him decide to weigh the cost of the bad times he shared with the woman. He can only remember two. The first was the night he told her he loved her, and she responded flatly that she did, too. He had not known if she meant it, and would never find out. The second was the day he left the hotel. After an awkward kiss, the woman gave him one of her old shirts. Now, the narrator wonders if the worn garment was really worth the $1,000 he spent.