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June 6, 2009
Herman's was packed. Tim walked away from our table toward the back door but it was locked so he tried the front and disappeared for long enough to smoke a cigarette. An old bouncer beat him back though and told us not to let him drink anymore. Time twirled around in his snakeskin cowboy boots when he returned and we all brushed off the bouncer's advice.
"Their brother died last weekend," I remembered Erin saying earlier.
She liked Tim's older brother at our table, engaged in a lengthy conversation.
"Hit the brakes," I thought, or let nature take its course?"