I knew that our minutes were numbered, but I didn’t dare to count them, just as I knew where all this was headed, but didn’t care to read the mileposts. This was a time when I intentionally failed to drop bread crumbs for my return journey; instead, I ate them.
Our lives had scarcely touched, but we had crossed to the other bank, where time stops and heaven reaches down to earth and gives us that ration of what is from birth divinely ours. We looked the other way. We spoke about everything but.