Fly the Whole Mess Into the Sea
an excerpt

While trying to find Dixon I found Charlie instead; a wry-haired man with full, untamed beard and eyes that seemed to be taking in nothing around him. His skin was rough, not with scars or blemishes, but in a way I could tell that life had taken its toll on him. His eyes were so vacant that I was shocked when he said, “I know exactly what kind of girl you are.” His thin body hit the seat with a soft thud which was the actual cause of me looking up, not his comment to me. He was wearing only a t-shirt and tweed blazer, despite the dropping November temperature. With the back of his hand he pushed his wild hair from his eyes and said, “Would you like me to make an assumption about you?”