I have headphones on while I stand at the bus stop. No music, just static loud enough to keep me from thinking. A man tries to talk to me as we wait. I ignore him, but my impulse to lie has me digging my key into my wrist. If I tell the man I can’t…

The basement was thick with cigarette smoke and a little weed, the kind of air that stuck to your clothes long after the night ended. An old lava lamp floated light against the basement wood paneling. River perched on stool, a cigarette dangling from her lips.  “Tell them, John,” she teased. “Tell them the story.”…