Dad.

The rain inks my shirt as I take a casual through the lot.

My right is apparently worse than my left, only noticeable really when distances are stretched. Regardless, the droplets adhere; my frames cloud the cars and lamp posts on the street seem smudged.

Thinking. Deep in it. Is this for the taking? Will the opportunity flash itself in front of me? I get in the car and let the engine sit still as I collect myself. Glasses are off.

Deep breath number four finally hits the nerves. "I think I'm going to be just fine."

I think I'll call my father tonight.