Count the Time in Quarter Tones

Happy. When Will thought about the future, he just wanted to be happy. He wasn’t sure how to make that happiness for himself. The future was uncertain and fickle and wholly ungovernable. Will wouldn’t be able to manifest happiness out of nothing. But maybe there was a way to cultivate happiness where it was already growing. Will thought about the things that made him happy. Hot coffee on a cold morning. Sharpened skates on fresh ice. The smell of fresh pies permeating every corner of the Haus. The rush of pride at a successful repair. A bed made up with teal sheets and piled high with shark plushies. A forest green pick-up truck with a busted stereo. The spray of saltwater on his face before the sun was even up. The press of Nursey’s body, from shoulder to ankle, during a game. A perfect, no-look pass. Nursey’s head on his shoulder on their way home from a roadie. The steady sound of Nursey’s breathing from the next bed in an unfamiliar hotel. Scraps of half-formed poems scattered around the Haus. A face lined with pillow creases. Green-gray eyes blinking blearily at him over a cup of coffee with way too much sugar. A stupidly pretty boy teasing him from the kitchen table as Will rolled out pie dough. Nursey. Nursey made Will happy.   Will tightened his grip on the pen in his hand, adding one last city to his list. Baltimore.