I stood on the slope distracted by white. Clouds clumped, and still I
wore sunglasses. Nature was blinding. I wanted it to blind me. One
step over, Randy unscrewed his flask, free, perhaps, for the first
time since his jail stint. I breathed up all that speed ahead of me,
holding it in. Randy laughed and started down; suddenly I wanted to
trip him. I wanted to pity him sincerely. I wanted to blame the
alcohol, and then I wanted to come clean and be forgiven.
I took the boy to the top of a building to look down over the city. To know we could look down. He said he felt like he could blow away in the wind. I waited for more, but he was speaking literally. There was no meaning except to take his hand.
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