With a three day hang over on it's way out, Jack reaches for the sun; it's not there.
Bishop has been planting the seed, sparking interest in the wilderness, a place Jack has been far from.
With clouds lingering, Jack reaches for his rubber boots and hat,
through a clouded sky Jack searches for clarity.
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Bishop wasn’t young anymore. He didn’t know what side was up. He had seen it before. He figured he had given himself brain damage. He was becoming the boring drunk. Talking when he should be listening. Forgetting how to listen. Not thinking beyond his own problems. He laid his arm on the table and cut along the top of the bone. He smiled like a cop getting a free blowjob.
Jack was back. Bishop wanted to see him before the suntan faded.
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