Some small, closet-like area of that dark and mental place causes me to experience a dream. Jobe decides to leave Pittsburgh early, returning to Oklahoma. I drop him off at the airport, shake his hand, and wave goodbye to him. There are no hugs. There are no kisses. There are no goodbyes. As I watch him walk away, my heart feels as if it bleeds within the confines of my chest. I begin to shake all over. Tears ebb at the corners of my eyes. My stomach turns, and bile rises to the back of my throat. It’s a horrible emotion that rushes through me, causing me to blink a number of times. I become overly dismal and physically lifeless. A silver-white-lined bubble drops down from somewhere above. It circles me, and I begin to float through the darkness: up and down, left and right, always forward
