We need something strong to drink, Storm. What do you think?
Maybe a little whiskey will help us sleep.
Have we really been up all night?
We have. I’ll get a shot glass and a bottle of Jack.
Just bring the bottle of Jack…the bottle of Jack…the bottle of Jack…
I know it sounds cheesy and everything, but I want to say it again…I love you, Storm Darlington…
Blueness. Blackness. Whiteness. Grayness.
I start to sing Steve Grand’s “All-American Boy” as my eyes close. I dance with the lifeguard in this dark and fuzzy world.
Comatose. Under the realm of reality. Somewhere distant. Lost.
Unconsciousness discovers me, wholly.Part 4: Aftermath
36: Day 20, A Wedding Day