Strangely, he looked at the sky. He tilted his head slightly upwards as if trying to catch either a glimpse or note of music. This had been his behavior for a week. At times, he could hear it; just barely. The notes were always barely out of reach. He could never place the tune. His only opinion of it was that it was unearthly, melancholy. It resembled something that John would have listened too; something from one of those old serials he watched when he was depressed. Whereas others had comfort food, John had comfort shows: The Outer Limits, One Step Beyond, Lost in Space. The music sounded like something that would be played on one of those shows. It always made him feel like he was some character in one of John's comfort shows, it made him feel like he was leaving this life, his fake life, and traveling to his real one. That this flesh – this man that he had been, this mediocre, unsubstantial creature known officially as Robert Talley or Bobby was nothing more than a shabby ...