More Than This

Slowly, slowly, slowly, they gather themselves up, helping one another to their feet with a tenderness they don’t need to discuss.

a big, suspicious black girl.

Here is the boy, running.
Here was the boy, drowning.

Maybe that’s what this has all been –)

(Maybe he never stopped drowning

People are harder to save than you think

There are no signs of anyone in the sky or on the train tracks or on any of the roads.

He really is alone in whatever hell this is.

Completely and utterly alone.

It isn’t, he thinks, as he trudges back toward his house, the most unfamiliar feeling in the world

“You ready, Seth?” he asked.

The last dream before death?