Page 128 of The Song We Lost

Doctor appointments come and go. Life moves forward, as leaves turn deeper red. The orchard empties, old creeps into the mornings, and somewhere between the music and the quiet moments with Sadie… October slips from present into memory.

One day I realize the trees outside the studio windows are almost bare.

The album is finished, and winter is coming.

chapter 30

luke

. . .

There’s a glass in my hand.

I don’t remember pouring it, I don’t knowwhereI am.

The ice has melted enough that it’s just cloudy water now, something amber sitting at the bottom like it’s been forgotten too.

I stare at it like it might tell me something. Like if I focus hard enough, I’ll remember how I got here. There’s a TV on somewhere behind me. Voices pitched too high and laughter that feels forced.

Applause. Maybe… It feels far away. Like it’s happening in another room.

Or another life.

I blink slowly, my head feels heavy. Not sharp pain anymore.

That was days ago.

Or weeks.

Now it’s just this constant pressure, like something is sitting behind my eyes and refusing to leave. I lift the glass and take a sip.

It tastes wrong.

Everything tastes wrong.

I set it down, or I think I try to. I miss the table slightly, and it tips… spills.

I don’t move to fix it.

I don’t move at all.

I watch the glass roll and settle.

My chest feels tight.

What day is it?

That thought feels familiar and somehow foreign. Something shifts on the TV.

Music.

It’s soft at first. But then I hear it. I would know that voice anywhere.

“I’ve stood on a thousand stages…”

No.

No, not…