People that spin rousing narratives about where hearts might go when they fall off our sleeves, the places we live when we’ve lost our home address, and the ironies that snicker rather loudly when we call ourselves adults. Maybe it’s coming of age when you’ve already gotten there, getting back to your roots when they’ve long been ripped up, or moving forward and always looking back. Friends that will take you home, hold you up and carry you forward. And for once, you don’t have to keep your eyes on the road – they're doing it for you.
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The air was such a bitter cold that day. It was just me and him; we’d stare into silence. It was the kind of silence that was almost paralyzing. Some days I’d stand there and watch him out of the corner of my eye; he always looked so nonchalant, as if he were miles away from reality.
“Want to grab a cup of coffee?” he asked.
I shrugged. I kind of liked the cold air; it was intoxicating.
We stood there a little longer,
“Tell me, what do you believe in?” he said, artlessly.
“I don’t believe in much of anything. You know, I just see what’s straight ahead,” I answer simply, thinking that I can’t remember when I stopped believing, or why.
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    I Can Make A Mess...- Salvy