Shuggie Bain

by Douglas Stuart

Shug had seen it before, those with least to give always gave the most.

He felt something was wrong. Something inside him felt put together incorrectly. It was like they could all see it, but he was the only one who could not say what it was. It was just different, and so it was just wrong.

It was hard at first to start moving again, to feel the music, to go to that other place in your head where you keep your confidence.

He couldn’t worry about next week. He’d have to worry about the rest of this week first.

“So, who do you want to be when we move?”