I'm gonna check my scars at home
Gonna cash my chips and roam
Gonna walk before you fade to black
I'm gonna write a new resume
I'm gonna write you off the page
Gonna take what we might take away
Caleb knocks on the door softly. How is Tuesday?
I shrug. Noncommittal. Epic headaches. Epic weakness when I want to be strong. Epic exhaustion when I want to be energetic. I want to be the sun and the moon. I want to be able to play more than three-quarters of any verse on the piano before someone interrupts me. It's okay, I lie.
He frowns. He knows my lies. I have a present for you.
What is it?
A nap. In the shade. With Ben and I.
Yes, please.