These images kept breaking in, things about Aubrey he fought so hard not to remember.
The morning wind swirled down cool and soft from the mountains, shaking the tops of the short pines on the foothills, stirring the dust at Ignacio’s feet and raising his hopes. He leaned back against the car, black and sleek, borrowed from his brother, and fingered the coins in his pocket.
Harvest day is the most important day of the week.
"Something moved across the street. Between the rows of the first and second floor windows something dark and sinewy slipped from one hidden place to another."