I trailed through the farm with my friend, feeling so fucking sad for him but knowing better than to verbalize my thoughts. “Are you all right, lad?” I finally asked him once enough time had passed. “I’m grand,” he replied, brushing it under the carpet like only Feely could, while he herded the milked cows out of the parlor and back down the path to the field. “He just doesn’t get me.” “Well, I think you’re brilliant,” I offered. “I think you should keep playing.”
