with the dome light on, I could see a large mass in the back seat. I had been afraid to look. I had no idea it was a person. A toolbox maybe. When you live on the back roads things always clunk and roll around, but this was a big clunk. ...
“wat a good rock and roll LP son? can’t get the sprotifly workin. tb. dad”—a desperation so thick you can smell it when you open iMessages, you know it’s him. Over the last few years