I think about staying one more night. It’d be a few more hours with something between me and the sky, a little bit more time with someone that means something to me, even if I’m not quite clear on exactly what that is. But in the end, I decide that the tent can’t do anything for me that the tarp won’t, and what’s left lying in there isn’t Davey. Not really. Davey’s gone and was never mine to begin with, so I might as well put on a hard face and point it in whatever direction feels best and get on with it.
