Austin was a shape-shifter. He turned over stones
and there was writing underneath. I turned one once
and found blind maggots writhing. When his

mother asked me to look for him, Jeff came too
in case Austin’s body had turned blue and wooden
because of overdose. Jeff was recovering from heroin

as if that were protection. But Austin answered
at the first place we went and said his phone
was dead. That was the last time I saw him.

An accidental betrayal. Unforgivable. I had proven
that he was findable, and after this he wasn’t found,
except a call sometimes from jail, ever again.