“An hour later, proven absolutely right, I slid the last drawer closed, sat on the dusty floor, and had a good, sorry=for-myself "what now?" moment.”

“And I began to feel sorry for myself; for so many years, my drawer full of memories had held the same old stories.”

“Understanding is not absolutely final.What's now right could be wrong later.”

“It said thata we have now-right now- and that's it. We have no promises for tomorrow, only right now and we had to seize the day, the hour, the moment”

“I want you. Bad. Right now. Against the wall. On my bed. The floor and maybe in the bathroom later. I have a shower stall and a Jacuzzi we could put to really good use. I know you'd like it.”

“Desert heat or not, the idea that my younger self was facing her last moments was a bucket of cold water in the face. I didn’t like her, but she appeared to have her shit together in a way I hadn’t for a long time, and she had, frankly, deserved better than me. I tried to wet my lips, had nothing to do it with and croaked, “Sorry.” “Don’t be sorry. Be good. Be right. Be a hero.”