Arizona is beautiful this time of year or at least that’s what I remember it to be. There’s a bit of validation trapped inside the landscapes we shot from the window seat. Seven hours is record timing if you ask me are you asking me? You kept pushing down on the gas like, get us there get us there. Back to sell most of what she’d left behind. “It’s an estate sale, Stephanie.” Okay dad. Okay okay. Sometimes I forget they’re really gone you know. Maybe that’s why I keep the tangled gold chains so close. A few consecutive clicks against my collar bone to remind me of where I am. It feels nice to touch the clasps to and from my skin when I need somewhere for my hands to be. See those tiny letters etched into the surface? So light like they’re meant to be whispered. Not a secret but surely something made to exist between the two of us. Thanks for keeping the pair of her tiny tables. They’ll be in California when I’m ready for them you said. I missed that last bit. Something about dining room chairs? Maybe if you hold your phone to your ear. Speaking through the headphones makes me feel like an asshole anyway. Better to sandwich the speaker to my skin. But now my face is warm and I’m 16 again. Maybe you can hear it. Traces of her, then. My voice is shaky and I can’t even blame it on the cold.
