The First 48 Page 25
by Tim Green
“But now,” he said, narrowing his eyes and staring hard at the changing shapes of light and water and limbs, looking. “I guess I don’t need that, and the things she says are just clips of the things she used to say to me all the time. I don’t see her quite as clear as I used to . . . but she’s there for me. And I’m there for her. And I know . . . she’s just waiting.”