Page 43 of Wayfarers

believe him. I still don’t. I know

that I’ve taken way more from the world

than is my due. But the weight of it

is crushing me, all this debt

on my back. I have to start paying it off.

Knox Longer Than Fire

I rise with the sky’s

redness and rekindle

last night’s fire.

Sylvie’s asleep in her van.

I have a broken arm and thirty-two dollars

in bills rolled tight as a clenched jaw.

I want something beautiful

that lasts longer than the sky’s

redness; longer than fire.

Knox

I’m staring at the fire when I hear Sylvie’s van door open and Winslow bounds out to me. He’s wagging his tail so vigorously it makes his whole body undulate.

I scratch his muzzle. “Mornin’, good boy.” He sniffs loudly at my cast. “Oh, I see we’re admiring our handiwork. Although I guess technically it was a rock that did this, not you.”

Sylvie approaches from behind, her footsteps crackling in the fragrant pine needles that carpet the ground.

“You’re gonna have to trust me, but I started this fire really quickly,” I say.

She sits beside me, hugging her knees to her chest against the morning chill. “I have no reason whatsoever to doubt you.”

“I had an Avatar dream last night.” I lift my chin to prevent Winslow licking my lips.

“I’m afraid to ask.”

“I’ll have you know my dream was very innocent. I was riding a dragon-bird thingy.”

“Not touching that. How’s your arm?”

“It hurts. I’m already excited for this cast to be off.”

“You don’t think you’re going to get into recreational casting?”

“You know there’s someone who’s into that though.”

“I’ve never had a broken bone. Just a broken heart.”

I squint as smoke lashes my eyes. “Me neither until now. I cannot recommend it as an experience.”