hovering over the body, not touching, as if there is a magnetic force between them, keeping them apart in death as in life. I stare at the shaven-headed man crying down his phone. He’s speaking to me but I ignore or can’t hear him.This feeling I haven’t felt in a long time rises in me. I can’t recall what it is. I take a step closer, my mind trying to decipher how Brian could be dead. I look at the body’s face. Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that’s Brian lying there on the road. Truth be told, I thought it was Brian too, but it isn’t. I walk off, while the man yelps desperately at me; he probably needs help. Relief fills the empty void. I chuckle to myself about how Brian will react when I tell him how foolish you were thinking it was him lying on the road, not some anonymous schoolboy, his public school tie flapping uselessly. I see Brian in the distance. I’ll admit - I don’t blame you for making that mistake. It doesn’t matter though. I’m no longer waiting for Brian.
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