Travis shuffled his feet in place. “Never give up.” “That’s part of it. What else?” An old Chevrolet passed in the street, briefly whirling autumn leaves in its wake. “Nothing’s over till it’s over,” Travis said. “That too. What else?” From some perch on a roof elsewhere in the Lowers, an owl called out, and a more distant owl responded. Travis said, “Maybe we don’t ever really die.”
