I say, 'Don't lose your heart, Rube.' And very clearly, without moving, my brother answers me. He says, 'I'm not tryin' to lose it, Cam. I'm tryin' to find it.
He prefers not to ruin things with any more questions. What it is is what it is.
Just be patient, she told herself, and with the mounting pages, the strength of her writing fist grew.
***A Last note from your narrator*** I am haunted by humans.
It's hard to not like a man who not only notices the colors, but speaks them
Around us I can sniff out a savagery in the noisy southern air. It knifes it's way into my nose, but I do not bleed blood. It's fear I bleed, and it gushes out over my lip. I wipe it away, in a hurry.