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I ask her, “What’s the deal, doll?” She’s all, “Cash up front, no funny biz.” I’m laughin—me, funny biz? “I’m not tryin to understand the Midwest here!” I say, quotin Larry’s dumb ass. She rolls her eyes—makes me happy as a pig in shit. Love that attitude! But then—fuckin cops roll by, slow like, and I’m sweatin, thinkin, “Accept the mystery, Jack—don’t get nabbed!” She grabs my arm, pulls me into this alley—quick thinker, this gal! Saved my bacon, and I’m like, “You’re a goddamn saint!”

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As the sun starts settin’, I’m feelin’ a mix of emotions. Happy, angry, surprised—like a rollercoaster. I pull out my sketchbook again, tryin’ to capture the colors of the sunset. But my mind’s all over the place. I’m thinkin’ about how life’s a bit like texture. It’s rough, smooth, and everything in between.

Autism: Craigavon mum says her son is like a prisoner in hospital