James Turnbow
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Appearances Over Time
Podcast Appearances
He looked normal, at least for around here.
Maybe late thirties, scruffy, like he'd just walked off a job site.
A little pudgy, jeans and a flannel shirt, muddy boots.
When the wind picked up and the shelter walls trembled faintly, he finally broke the silence.
Alone suddenly felt like a word I'd misunderstood my whole life.
Dust sifted down from the ceiling like a gentle rain.
The particles danced in the dull, yellow light.
I hesitated.
My dad's just up the road.
He's coming soon.
I lied.
Dad and his crew were rigged up in Wilitka.
Even if he left as soon as we hung up, he wouldn't be here for a while.
He smiled, and something about it made my skin crawl.
That's good, he said.
Storm like this, you want your folks close.
I sat there quietly, pretending to scroll on my phone while I watched the little wheel on the screen spin.
Why did I tell him he could stay?
My heart thudded so loud I was sure he could hear it.
The worst of the storm hit.