orning, the kind of Austin morning

y, shelving books, my mind still repl

, always

out of state, but

Jay? What about

at charismatic smile gone,

fe, not just chasing a dre

, ugly and true. He'

brated in my pock

ell

nding, "Are you Emily Cart

in my stomach, "

ez with the Highway Patrol.

the books, ev

accid

early this morning. A fire. I' m sorry, ma'

n' t m

n' t make sen

or, the phone cla

hen rushed back in a wav

back, always had a plan,

o

is bandmates, a few dista

o mostly raised him, held

omething, Emily," she' d

ks. The apartment fe

s cold. His guitar sto

ork. Some days, I di

physical weigh

sit, bringing groce

e edge of my sofa, twisting

ice soft, almost hesitant, "sometime

, confused, "A

he past behind. Sometim

rief made people

g to survive the

ed, burnt wreck the police ph

d on a loop, my harsh w

id those things. If

d around me, a su

d a part of me h