There was a half eaten sandwich on a plate on the floor.
Nearby, an industrial size wastebasket
was full of empty beer and diet pepsi cans.
Propped up on a floor
beside David's sleeping bag and his camera
was a copy of the same picture of Linda,
with her red hair blowing in the wind,
that I had torn into little pieces several months ago.
Uncle Roger File 3: Terminals by Judy Malloy