“The second page is the one that lasts.” He said it like a line out of a manual, which is where he got it.

I had told him that my first week with him at the gate, standing in the shade with a clipboard in his hands and his boots shifting on the gravel.

I picked my youngest’s sneaker up off the step and set it inside the door, where she steps over it every morning.

We went through the notebook page by page.

Twenty-two entries.