Adam wakes to a quiet house. There’s an ethereal quality in the silence around him, something that tells him he’s the only one home. It’s Sunday—his parents probably dragged his younger brothers to morning service. Adam hasn’t been to church in years, since before he graduated from high school.
It isn’t that he doesn’t believe in God, because he does. He’s just not overly religious. There are better things he can think of to do on a Sunday morning than spend an hour listening to a preacher go on and on.
Like practice, he thinks, rolling beneath the bed sheets that cover his legs. And I need to get the band together. God, what time is it? Even though it’s the weekend, they have to be at the studio by ten. Adam glances at his clock, hoping he isn’t late.
He isn’t. The digital clock acr
