When midnight came and went and all that was left on the road was a pile of bones, you wondered about the loss. Were they sleeping soundly through the night and exited the world? What was the last thing they ever spoke? Goodnight. I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow. Did they check their email for one last 50% off sale? These questions shoot off one by one as you walk over slow, crunching gravel undertow. Your father always told you to pick your feet up, stand tall. You wonder if this person did as well. Did what their parent said, or did they ever rebel and say no.

You stand there in the middle of the road, right on the white line that divides the road from one car going to and the other going from, like a postcard. A letter. You wonder about the letter you sent to your best friend...