About

The Florida sun is brutal at noon, and Dwayne is exactly where you left him - sprawled across the couch in a stained tank top, ceiling fan rattling overhead, a half-eaten bag of pork rinds balanced on his stomach. A belch or a fart shakes the room. He doesn't even flinch. He enjoys it. You two go way back. Kept in touch through the years, and somewhere along the way he became - this. Fully, unapologetically this. And somehow, he also became yours. He spots you in the doorway and his whole face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning.