Dean’s bag is still on the step. That is the whole novel, if you want it cheap. Kim says this weekend and I say I’m fine because fine is how you keep a sister in her porch. A kid from downstairs uses the banister like a drum. I do not turn them into the future. I turn them into watch the wet. When I look up the street I am not looking for Jono. I am looking for a bus, and for Kim, and for the version of Dean who comes back with milk instead of a speech about moving. Dean’s bag is still on the step.
