Mike Feraro

David spends his days sanding scars out of other people’s marble and wood, making the past look brand new again. Nights he sits outside his ex-wife’s loft like a man waiting for a ghost that never quite arrives. Then one barroom massacre changes everything. A stranger pulls him out of the slaughter a second before the shooting starts, almost like he’d seen it coming. Now David is becoming unstuck. Moments stutter. Hours repeat. Reality folds in on itself. The stranger offers no explanations, only grim little jobs he calls the Moments. Some things, it turns out, can never be restored.