His mind was reeling; where was he? The last thing he remembered was that he had been in bed at his apartment, the crappy, dingy apartment that was al... he could afford after his wife had tossed him out. He remembered waking up with a crushing pain in his chest, and then he remembered the blackness coming up in his mind. Now there was blackness again, no, not quite blackness, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. He could see the red numbers of a clock across the room showing 3:17.. "I'm not going outside," he promised but then asked, "and according to dad you claim you can't even paint a vase of flowers these days." Flowers are tougher than dumb brothers," I teased back. And then, for the next couple of hours I was happy again, quickly sketching Craig from a variety of angles, somehow my artistic skill reborn. He talked easily as I worked, letting me have a glimpse inside his life as he described his school courses, his girlfriends, the music he liked, politics (something. More

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