I have seen your brother a few times since he’s been gone, it seems it takes him an hour or two, just to cross the street where I live, or so I have been told, its all about distance and timing, the moment when there is no chance that a car could catch up to him, before he makes it to the otherside, where he was going with so much trouble, I will never know, I try to feel for him, for what I cannot imagine it must be like, however the other day, I was stopped dead in my tracks, as if in his shoes, afraid to come closer, to cross over, to reach out and see if he was still their, he was in-between the isles, nestled in close to the stereos, holding one hand over his head, slowly filtering it all in, he looked as if he had found a calm patch within the severe storms that penetrate his mind, he looked up for half a second as if to say he was ok, like it was now reduced to just a passing rain, enough at least to hear the sounds of the music coming through, I wish I could find a song for him, one that would sing out the bad-dreams, maybe next time I see him, I will be more courageous and sing as loud as I can, overpowering the ghosts that wreck his head, shattering their hold and casting them out, or maybe I will stay right were I am on my side of the street and never say a word.

– Josh Fleming

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