Ghosts Under the Stairwell

What We Keep, What We Lose, What Haunts Us

I went to the desert this week to end something. Not my physical life (I’m not that dramatic these days), but something inside was beckoning: leave me. Something that wanted to die.

Some goodbyes are like that.

I left a voice message for Dave the day he died. I don’t know if he heard it. He didn’t call back. It wouldn’t have changed what happened next, bu…