Reeling In The Years — 1994

Daniel almost lied. Then he shook his head. “No. It’s not there.”

The sprinkler outside kept turning. A jet of water arced over the petunias, catching the late sun, making a brief, failed rainbow. reeling in the years 1994

At the hospital, the air smelled of floor wax and dread. Tom lay in a bed with rails, looking smaller than Daniel remembered. An IV dripped into his arm. His eyes were open, but they were watching something far away—maybe 1972, maybe last week, maybe the frozen moment between one guitar chord and the next. Daniel almost lied