Everything Nigel had was in this motel room or the car, which when packed, hung low under the weight. Mostly media. Books, a CD collection, DVDs, clothes. Going outside and taking it in, it all felt like a mistake. He was over a thousand miles from anybody he knew in Arvada, an inner ring suburb like any other in any city.
He called his brother in central California, someone he knew little and had bugger all in common with. But he was already lost, so what was the harm in being lost in another place altogether.
