- I couldn't find you at the store.
He'll tell me, laying on his bed on his belly, chin on his hand, looking into me.
- I couldn't find you at the store... and, and....I couldn't find you.
Were you looking?
- Yeah, but I couldn't find you.
Was that a dream?
- (sigh) Yeah.
We live everywhere at once. We drift freely from one time to another: From seeing him in the hospital for the first time, to the disconnect of his first birthday (the pictures, as usual, tell all our stories), to just last night. A three year-old boy (anxiety as real as quiet as mine) saying:
- Stay here, for just a couple of whiles.
When we wake up on the other side of your childhood, what will the world look like - thru eyes that have then seen so much and inside heads (yours, mine) that have then grown so old.
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