I’ve got 14 things in my shopping cart
That I don’t intend to buy
And my eye on a ticket to anywhere
A homebody with the urge to fly
Give me a hammock in the woods
A book or two
And let me pretend the world has stopped for now
At first glance, I was sure that it was a clear-cut case of some stupid rich kid, feeling invincible, overconfident, running away to a wilderness where he had no business being.
I was wrong.
He had gone away years before. Away, as in not there, not where Miranda was, not around when she needed him—or someone, anyone—to be in her corner.