We spoke over iced tea and a picnic bench. Sharp bits of yellow chipped off. Made it seem dangerous. It’s hard to know beauty when it’s dark.
He told me a few of his stories. I spoke to him of his books, and he claimed to have almost dropped a tear. “Those were beautiful words.”

I actually don’t receive comments such as those very often. So, beautiful I will let them be. For now.

Truth begins from these things, I’ve always told myself. Truth begins from these things. Not a single tear more.