THE OFFBEAT TIMES

My legs are burning hot in the October sun. Only the lower part of me is exposed to the rays as I swing on my porch. The swing creaks and pops like my right knee when I crouch down to pick something up. It shouldn’t do that. I’m only 41. My phone dings, “What are you doing the rest of the day?”, my girlfriend, Morgan, texts as she’s heading home. “I’ve got a date with this guy…” I send a photo of the latest book I’m reading, Accelerant by T.L. Simpson, the cover features a m