Ten years after his death, Dog’s brother walked in his apartment.
“I need those shoes you borrowed back,” his brother said.
Dog had only just moved in the previous summer, so one of the questions that popped up was how his brother had found him. Another was if he still had the shoes. He tried not to wonder how his brother came to be standing in the kitchen, letting the tap water run until it cooled enough to drink.
“Warm for spring,” his brother said.
Dog agreed and offered his brother a beer, if he had time to stick around.