“It's like watching a train wreck, this conversation.”

“I’m not an angel. I don’t live in heaven or play a golden harp or have heart-to-heart conversations with the Almighty.”

“I think the birds in the area are dying laughing watching me try not to crash.”

“Look closer. The river's its own world of fast and slow, deep and shallow, bright and shadowed. If you look at it like that, like a landscape where the fish live, it'll be easier to catch one.”

“Hey, you feel like driving today?" he asks. "I don't want to walk to the bus stop. It's too cold.""You feel like dying today?""Sure. I like risking my life. Keeps things in perspective.”

“I don't know if it's the terrible pain from my shouler or the weight of his emotional baggage, but I feel like I'm losing all sense of reality.”

“What? I demand to know. "What is it now?""You're not going to go." he says."Watch me.""I've been having a vision of this place, too." This stops me from my wild, cowardly (how can he think I'm brave?) retreat back to the road ..."You're having a new vision, too?" I ask. "It's right here." He walks toward me, his strides long and purposeful across the grass. "Right now. I've been seeing it for weeks, and it's happening right now."He stops in front of me. "This is the part where I kiss you," he says.”