Four Minutes of Audio Recorded at the Lakeview Hotel
He set the crates down hard on the wooden floorboards, breathing heavily from the climb.
“Where do you want the string lights?” Ryan asked.
“Can you just leave them by the closet?” I asked.
He kicked the crates over to the wall.
He wore a faded gray sweatshirt and dark jeans.
He stood by the window and shoved both hands deep into his pockets, staring out at the dark street.
“Are you packed for tomorrow?” Ryan asked.
“Almost,” I said.
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