“I just wanted to go back to that secret post-terrestrial third spacce with him that we visited when we talked on the phone.”

“and even though I was in bed and he was in his basement, it really felt like we were back in that uncreated third space, which was a place I really liked visiting with him.”

“That was easy for him to say when his cell phone was rounding third base. If anyone got a home run tonight, I didn't want it to be Verizon Wireless.”

“When I talked to him earlier, he said he had to work tonight,” Peter explained, “but that we should go ahead and draw for him.” “Draw?” I asked uneasily. “Oh Lord. Tell me it’s not Pictionary night too.”Peter sighed wearily. “Draw for secret Santas. Do you even read the e-mails I send?”“Secret Santas? Seems like we just did that,” I said.“Yeah, a year ago,” said Peter. “Just like we do very Christmas.”

“And then the line was quite but not dead. I almost felt like he was there in my room with me, but in a way it was better, like I was not in my room and he was not in his, but instead we were together in some invisible and tenuous third space that could only be visited on the phone.”

“I just want you to know that, when we talk about war, we're really talking about peace.”