of his hand against his eyes.
“That morning my bike wouldn’t start. Battery was dead. I’d left the radio on overnight. I called Danny and I said, ‘Son, my bike’s dead, can you grab her and I’ll meet y’all at the Dairy Queen?’ And he said, ‘No problem, Pop. We’ll see you there.’”
He looked up at the sky. Not at me. Not at the stone. At the sky.
“If that continue reading …
