It’s quiet for a while, and then Rowan says; “We could talk now. We’re alone out here. No walls.””There are always walls.” I say.

I don’t dare touch her. Loss is a knowledge I’m sorry to have. Perhaps the only thing worse than experiencing it, is watching it replay anew in someone else–all the awful stages picking up like...

Vaughn is talking about the heat, and his voice is so excited that it breaks into whispers at times. He loves his madness the way a bird loves the sky.