rip_kevins_chilli
The wind blows particularly strong today. I can almost feel a spectre among us, passing through our body, trading their face for ours. Len's fidgety movements remind me that she's standing beside me with her fingers wound through mine. I look around to the thirty-some people standing gathered around a small tombstone with the name Jamie Dawn inscribed in the stone just above the epitaph. It reads, "There are no facts; only interpretations."