I had nothing and nothing was what mattered to me.I did have an ‘82 pickup truck. My part time job would pay—at a bit more than $1,100 monthly aft...r taxes—barely enough for me to take care of the rent, utilities, food, gas to get to work. All of it was on me now. I’d be able to scrape by but that would be it.Mike drove me to my place the day after the cremation. I hadn’t been home in some ten days. But, now I was, home that is.I’d been through our apartment and cleaned it out. All I had to. He avoided me for the rest of the day, possibly embarrassed by how incredibly wrong I’d proven him to be, but around lunchtime, I heard a knock on my door, and leaped up to greet him (and accept the inevitable apology that he owed me).“Hey Simon,” I said, tilting my head to the side and waiting expectantly.“Hey,” he said, seeming distracted. “I need your bike helmet back.”One of Simon’s little projects had been a bike helmet that was meant to be twice as safe as your normal helmet - I don’t. More

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