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"Where were you yesterday, man? I tried calling a couple times!" He looked at Bill with all the disappointment of a best friend scorned, which he probably was. Bill had been neglecting his friends. That it was understandable, given all that was going on, didn't make it right. Still, at least Wednesday he'd had a very good excuse."Dad's in the hospital. He got in a wreck during the storm." Bobby's eyes bugged out."No! Oh, damn, I'm sorry! You should have called! Is he OK?" He's fucked up, but they say he'll be OK. They're keeping him till the weekend, most likely. Yesterday was ... busy." Bill fell back in the seat. Bobby turned forward and did the same."I can imagine! Glad he's gonna be OK, though."They were silent for a moment as the next batch of kids filed on."So, what were you reduced to doing without me, Bobby?"It took a moment for his friends to answer. Glancing at him, Bill saw ... embarrassment. Given what MUST have been part of it, for his Ai-like girl to vanish (if Ai had. I think it was something deeper, something without a name. I was meant to just listen to the smooth hum of the road, the noise soothing to me. At times, your hand opened. I would trace your palm with a fingertip, soft and slow, already memorizing some mysterious flesh map. A beautiful, looping terrain. Later, you would ask why I did that. I was scared to say and you, with a silly smile, said to not be afraid. That you wouldn't laugh. Maybe giggle a little. "I see our lifelines woven together when I do that," I would answer in a near whisper, barely able to meet your gaze. And your response would come in the form of an almost painful hug, the smile gone, a barely noticeable tear traveling down your cheek as you embraced me. I see us like this at times. A panorama that's oblivious to time, moments untouched and crystalline in their clarity, no matter what order they're in.And I still trace. I watch the city's streetlamps, much like your eyes, seemed to course with a beautiful.
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