I clutched my rattle in my fist and willingly crawled after theyoung mother, the plastic toy noisy in my hand. The first room on theleft was a lounge ...oom, and I saw Cindy already sitting up on an oldbrown three-seater couch in readiness. The rattling pieces of shot in mybaby toy seemed to announce my entrance like a deafening fanfare.Melody removed her gingham apron as she walked over and sat down besideher daughter. She smiled at me when she heard me crawl into the room.Her blue cotton. One day at a time, because time moves forward, dragging you behind it like Achilles and Hector. The universe doesn’t care about your love life, or your loss. Doesn’t care that you can’t think straight. Doesn’t care that you can’t stop replaying that moment. Doesn’t care care if they left you, or you left them. It doesn’t care if it was for the best, or justified, or conceived in conceited self-absorption. It just goes. The world spins on, the sun rises, sets, and rises again. You are just. More

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