“I came home at dusk with my ears ringing from the quiet.”
“That evening, rowing on the quiet river as sunset turned to dusk, I saw an occasional smoky smudge on the towpath, always slightly ahead of me, like a dark star guiding me home.”
“I came from a broken home. My bedroom window was cracked.”
“My bones are ringing the way sometimes people say their ears are ringing, I'm so tired.”
“Petey," I whisper, his ear maybe an inch away from my mouth. "It...it feels like...wicked like...home when I'm with you. Home”
“I never met an addict who came from a nice home . I've met addicts that came from families that had money and nice houses. But never from a nice home.”