Is there still time for a fire?

Rain. The sound of a tile saw.

I look at the message and laugh and try to explain why it is so funny, but maybe you had to be there.

He knows who they are and even has an email address.

But could we not?

Called it.

Not enough butter.

How do we recover when we make a mistake?

But really, at the end of the day, if we fail, it is my fault. “Heavy is the head who wears the crown,” he always says to me.

And then you get a text that makes you think that maybe you’re wrong. That maybe you are still on the right path.