Patron Saints of Nothing

by Randy Ribay

It’s a sad thing when you map the borders of a friendship and find it’s a narrower country than expected.

There was something about Jun, about the way he asked the questions, that didn’t even make me hesitate before speaking, that didn’t make me feel self-conscious or like I had to give the right answer or try to sound smart. It was like he actually wanted to know what I had to say no matter what it was, like he wanted to know me. He wasn’t just waiting for his turn to speak; he wasn’t waiting to judge.