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SHAWN THORNTON || 23<br />
He paused to hurl a rock into the void. It landed too far<br />
away to register a splash.<br />
“My life has always been confusion,” John went on. “I<br />
don’t even know which end is up. I’m just bouncing around.<br />
One day this happens; another day that happens. It’s all just<br />
random. So now this accident. What do I do? Stick around?<br />
Slowly move out <strong>of</strong> the picture?”<br />
He shook his head, unsatisfied with every option.<br />
Chuck thought for a moment. “You ought to go visit her,”<br />
he said, leveraging himself up and looking back toward the<br />
city center.<br />
“I tried.”<br />
“You should try again.”<br />
John knew in his gut it was the right thing to do.<br />
A few days later, he ventured back to the hospital, feeling<br />
horribly awkward and conspicuous. Does everyone know I’m<br />
the one who was at the wheel <strong>of</strong> the car that injured this innocent<br />
girl? This time the nursing staff let him through—with or<br />
without the family’s permission, he didn’t know. He walked<br />
quietly into Bev’s darkened room. She lay there alone, several<br />
medical machines standing cold sentry around her. <strong>The</strong><br />
vivacity that had drawn him to her seemed to have drained<br />
away. She was sleeping, empty, gone. He opened his mouth<br />
to say something, but speaking didn’t make sense—she was<br />
unconscious. She still looked so young.<br />
A nurse slipped in. John turned.<br />
“I brought her something,” he said and handed the nurse<br />
his gift: a stuffed white dog.<br />
“That’s very sweet,” she said and laid it beside Bev. It
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