Grandpa was terminal. My flight was tomorrow, the tickets were booked; I had delayed telling him until now.

He looked at me, but his gaze spanned a thousand miles. Then he smiled, smoothing wrinkled cheeks and pulling ridged scars taut across his jaw.

“…Long time since I been to Texas…”

It’s been two years, three months, and nineteen days since Guy was in Texas. This is his fifteenth 50-word story.