Calix walked along the river’s edge, noting the white capping waves, the anger in the rolling motions. Debris washed in the choppy waters, bobbing as it headed to who knew where. Downstream until it could go no further. Going with the motions, unable to fight back against the massive strength of the water. Destruction and fury raged both inside and outside the banks.
He understood as it reflected his own turbulent emotions.
Why had he reached out and touched Mitch in the kitchen?
It was an old habit. One that he’d done with Drum all the time. Just small gestures, but one they both enjoyed. Affection. Attention. Love. With Drum. No one else. For a split second, he’d been back there. Sharing the moment with Drum. Chatting as they fixed a meal together.
Then, he’d rested his hand on Mitch
