Dying

Andy can send text messages again. On the drive home I saw a fat, bald guy covered in white paint driving a Plymouth Voyager, same year and color as the one we almost died in three years ago. The guy was driving with his eyes closed, as far as I could tell. I sent Andy a text message about it. Lorene Carter, Andy's grandmother and an Important Woman in my life, might be dead before we get back from Chicago.