The next afternoon after work I decide to go by the gym, anyway. But after the time I know she has been here. Or usually is here.
Forlorn concrete boxes on the edge of some dusty Arizonian town – that’s the gym and the nearby pool. They are as shitty as they look, but they have what people need.
To come here. Often.
They have it.
I step through the doors and then remember I haven’t brought any gym clothes.
“Hey champ!” Dylan calls from his cave behind the desk.
“Hey – uh – I guess I am getting old. Forgot my clothes.”
“Why did you come in then, champ?”
“Got nothing else to do, I guess.”
Dry laughter. My best attempt.
“You here to see Carrie?”
Dylan goes right to it. He has his lucid moments. Not sure I like that …