May 31, 2006


We were with Tidbit.

"She was at the edge of the bed, about to jump off."

"She ought to be whipped." I said. "Flayed. Filleted. Pressed. Stretched. Scavenger's Daughtered. Drawn and Quartered. Boiled in Oil." Euthanized.

"You've been reading too many books."

"Alright, Tidbit. Go night night."

That's what we said to Tootsie, as we walked away.

"Go night night..."

"It'll get easier."

"I know."

"It's barely been a day."

"I know."

"I know you love deep."

Yes, I think that's so. I think I love too easily and too hard, too fast. It makes me vulnerable. It's by god's grace alone that I haven't seen more tragedy on so broad a field.

Perhaps for some people the heart is closer to the surface. Their shadows can escape.

Or maybe I'm just being vain.

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