Did you see that? he asked. A trace. Some light in the sky. Going east to west. Glowing.

No. I missed it, she said.

Maybe a shooting star or a comet, he looked up again. Huh. Probably an airplane, he told her. Just some airplane or rocket. Perhaps a rocket? I don’t know.

Who shoots off rockets out here? she asked. They do that in Florida, not Tennessee. She looked at his face, outlined in the dark. You’re seeing things again. It’s your imagination, the woman said.

You always say that. As if my mind plays tricks on me. Like I’m not logical. You think I’m crazy.

Do not.

Yeah. You do. Think I’m nuts. Always have. When we were in school, you thought I was off. Always questioning me.

I just don’t think there was anything in the sky, she lit a cigarette and offered him one. He lit them both with a Zippo. They breathed in the nicotine and cold night air. Menthols taste good in the winter, she said. I don’t know why, but they just do. You think so?

I’m done talking to you. I’m done talking, period. I know what I saw.

No, you don’t.

Yeah. I do.

You saw a light or an airplane or a rocket or a comet or a blank blank blank fill in the blank. You saw nothing.

And that’s why I will no longer speak. Not a word. To anyone. I’ll live the rest of my days in silence. 

Now that’s crazy.

He looked at her. Just looked at her and walked away. Same way he did last weekend and the weekend before that.

Sonofabitch is crazy.