Chapter 11I skip the liquor store on the way to my apartment complex and drive aimlessly through streets listening to Bruce Springsteen singing about fractured lives and broken relationships.
He sings to me personally in every verse and inflection. I park the car on the side of the street, four houses down from my apartment, because of the ongoing construction outside my building. I sit in the car until the song ends, then shut off the ignition, stare up at an approaching dusk sky.
Eversion Street is quiet as I get out and look around the quiet middle-class neighborhood. I lock the car and walk in the direction of my apartment. The air is warm, and sweat clings to my skin. I am midway up the street when I hear a noise.
Rattling. Like aluminum cans dragging across the ground.
It’s a fam
