But finally, the time is at hand. Out of the little window I see the outline of familiar mountains, the moonlit tips of familiar forests. Then, the ti...e is now. I am jettisoned wordlessly onto the side of the road, facing track leading into the foothills that shelters my community. I begin to walk the pitted trail, eyes searching for a familiar beacon in the darkness. There it is: a soft, orange light spilling from the first cottage nestled in the trees. I approach, beginning to pick out. His sofa was full of outdated newspaper, mainly the entertainment section, and dirty clothing. Empty whiskey bottles stood on the low coffee table. There was no evidence of any kind that indicated he had ever been a pianist. Eric came out of the kitchen carrying some ice, some wet cotton and…surprisingly a clean towel. He grabbed the outdated newspapers and clothes off the sofa and threw them in a heap on the floor to make a space for Nicky. He took off his outer coat, which stank badly of fish. More

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