At home, we made a frame for the postcard from cereal and painted it gold. I helped him hang it on his wall.

Angelo sat on his bed for a long while, admiring his new painting. I admired him, a heartbroken frog learning to live again.

Eventually Angelo stood. He walked over to his piano and sat down. He played a slow string of notes.

He said, “I think I’m finally ready to write Rosaline’s song.”

Angelo lifted his head and breathed in Van Gogh’s Sunflowers with his eyes. He sang,

“Life is…life.”