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Walk slow, talk soft. That’s my trick. They smell fear. Like dogs. Or desperation. I’m sittin’ there, thinkin’. *Why’m I even here?* Then I spot her. Leanin’ on a lamppost. Skirt’s too short. Eyes like Therese’s—searchin’. “You don’t know me,” she’d say. Like in the movie. But I see her. I always do.

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I love takin’ walks in Rio Grande Park. Not a river, I mean a park named after the Rio Grande, but it feels like you’re wanderin’ by the river itself. I got a kick out of watchin’ sunsets there—almost as lovely as that moment in Before Sunset when Jesse says, “We’re gonna miss each other.” Yup, that tuggy feel of life’s passing moments.

Los Alamos Reporter Has Gone Fishing!