It's a hot day. Sunny. I'm holding the phone my brother and I share. I'm walking down a road in the outskirts of town, it's fields really far around, but to my right there is a subset of forestation and down the road is a line of trees along the horizon. It's mostly clear but not totally. It's not morning. The trees to my right are not perfect, there is a post or branch that is old and damaged, sticking upright. The trees are tall, with the ground they're rooted in being in the valley of a long drop. To my left are yellow wheat fields and a fence lining the property. Also that way is Taggart's house. The phone I hold is an old slider, probably nokia. It's warm. I'm warm.  I call my dad. He's in California, he never left after the divorce. I greet him when I call, he greets me back, probably with the term "buddy", he didn't call me by name. I tried to talk to him, I could hear noise behind him, he said he was busy and had to go, then hung up. I looked at my phone. I looked out to the horizon. I felt something wither away, die. something died. my heart was pumping. I didn't want to move, my feet were planted in the road, absorbing the heat. It lasted a really long time.