“I started counting time for you”

“I haven’t started counting yet. I wonder if it’s just me or if it’s like that for everybody; that every time someone dies you start counting how much time has passed since they’ve been gone. First you count it in minutes, then in hours. You count in days, then weeks, then months. Then one day you realize that you aren’t counting anymore, and you don’t even know when you stopped. That’s the moment they’re gone.”

“He had never bothered to count time before, but he started to now, and it began with counting each breath she took.”

“Close your eyes. Take a breath. Count to three. Let it out. Count to four.” “Shove it up your ass,” he said, hunching into himself and starting to shake. “The last time you told me to close my eyes and count from ten, look what happened to me.”

“I’d rather count to one billion, than waste my time thinking I could count on you.”

“I should not count on outside help. Survival had to start with me.”