GW was a Texan neighbor. When the heat was intense, his nose would turn red, as if the sun had singled him out. He had that strange calm of someone who no longer fights for anything, like something out of a Coen brothers film, floating in a country that wasn’t his but didn’t bother him either.
I was just minding my own business, high school, not really thinking about anything. Sometimes I borrowed PlayStation discs, scratched discs that took forever to start.
I think that’s how it was… or something like that.
