Mom said, “You remember Harvey Simpson, Winter.”I reached out my hand, “Of course, good to see you.”Mom took her old-fashioned blue and white ...peckled coffeepot off the stove and poured a cup for me. The three of us sat at that kitchen table where I’d had thousands of meals. Done my homework, argued with Autumn.I glanced at Harvey, been a few years. Time hadn’t been particularly kind to him. Receding hairline had kept creeping backwards. Bifocals thicker than I’d remembered. His slump didn’t. ”“What’s that?” I asked in a low voice, not willing to disturb the women.“Pass out - do you think that this is going to be a regular thing with you?” he said.“Dunno. This is all very new to me, I have no idea how it works or anything. I gotta figure it out as I go.” I looked around the room. It was a different bedroom to the one I woke up in yesterday, a completely different style. “Where are we?” I asked. “This isn’t the same house as yesterday.”Donald looked up from his book, put a bookmark. More

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