Sparrow was always wandering off somewhere, humming to herself. She usually came back with something goofy, like an old bird's nest or a four leaf clo...er to show us. Then she would sit by the campfire and hold it and look at it for hours, making up stories about where it might have come from, until someone would light a joint and start passing it around. Getting high was something she liked more than exploring. That, and fucking! She might just be more of a slut than I am. Together, we're like. He worried a lot, about what might happen if he hit a rock on the way down, or if the current took him where he could not find his way back or if he couldn’t get back up? But these guys didn’t care, they just dove in to the awaiting pool of uncertainty, because they were fearless. Standing on the edge of this cliff, Jerome felt like those men and boys in Negrill. But he also felt as though he was watching them and himself, from afar. He was outside of himself, watching himself fight himself. More

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