I still had a few minutes before I had to leave, so I decided to see what was happening in the world. Murder, murder, rape, murder, dog-show, murder. Good times. The cable news channels were busy running the top story which featured the sixth anniversary of the ex-president’s plane crash, with the typical commentary. The same talking heads who had crucified him while he was alive were now heaping praise on a man who it was now safe to get behind.

I flipped off the T.V. and a sadness washed over me slowly, momentarily sapping my will to move. No time for this now Winter. I lined up a rail of speed on the table, dedicated it to the late president, and went to put on my coat.