The sky looks the same tonight as the night I saw Cool Runnings. Big white moon, small puffy dark clouds gliding over its surface, blue alternating with black. I thought the moon followed us through the empty, taciturn plains of east central Minnesota. I thought my dad was in on it. I cleaned the foggy windows with my sleeve. I didn't let it leave my sight.
Tonight I'm driving, and the moon doesn't care to follow me. Miles of buses line up, dark, lingering; anticipating the spill of football fans into the street. Anything but silent.
