He said nothing during the ride. We sat in stony silence listening to the local classic rock station at low volume. A barely audible Bob Dylan sang about the injustices visited on Ruben Carter, but every time the engine got a little louder or we hit a noisy patch of road, he was drowned out. When...
It wasn’t warm out, but it wasn’t bitter cold either, and the breeze that blew carried with it the smell of spring. It was like Mother Nature’s way of trying to tell me to be more optimistic. But my dark and troubling suspicion haunted my thoughts. I knew it would take more than the sight of a ro...