Clouds swallowed the moon as dusk came and shadows rippled nearby.

There's the rain, Jerry said, pointing to gray sky.

I sat on the back of the bike as night air brushed my cheeks and scents of crushed leaves grew stronger by the river. I held on as we wound down a quiet road and I daydreamed. I thought of a party, people's misguided hopes and glances, a musician who got carried away and picked me up to swing me around, couples struggling, couples fighting, music playing as friends tapped cans of beer, laughed, and sucked at the foam.

At home in the dark I listened to the bedroom ceiling fan and insects singing in early September.

Jerry asked, set the alarm for me?

I glanced at the clock's dials hidden in pools of inky black. I am afraid of the dark, I said.

Want me to do it then?