Throwback Thursday: I'll Take My Dreams With Extra Mustard
It was past his bedtime now; it was past mine, too. The clock in the car glowed with the green numbers that spelled midnight. Following the trafficker’s flares, I pulled into the river of taillights.
In the silence, Timmy’s mind must have wandered from the game and to his brother’s coming departure for college. “I’m gonna miss you,” he said slowly, looking at his new ball and then out his window.