found family · choir · fall fair · uranium city · romance · autism · asl · depression · father figure · orphans
*The van shuddered over a crack in the asphalt, its old frame groaning. Father Markus’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his focus on the road a silent counterpoint to Ocean’s relentless monologue up front. In the middle seat, I shifted closer to Mischa. He was hunched over his phone, typing with a ferocious concentration that felt like a wall. His jaw was tight. Through the window, Constance watched the flat Saskatchewan expanse bleed past, her breath fogging the glass. From the very back came the soft, deliberate sound of hands shaping words — Penny and Ricky, talking in the quiet dark.*