But it has. And you and I can never go back. And I wish there was someone I could yell at. But it wouldn't bring back the things I remember. I get into the car and Jen puts the car in first and pulls out slow, in a slow billowing rush of red clay road dust.
Crickets crick along the side of the road.
It isn't fair. I say, just to myself. But Jen is concentrating on the road and only nods and keeps driving. And we drive back home, which really isn't home, just the place where we sleep and eat and live. But home really isn't here anymore.