Almost involuntarily I slow and then stop. She had already pulled ahead of me and apparently not noticed my pause because she was still sprinting ahead. I clinched my toes into the wet grass, digging them in and feeling the earth. To my right the fog was rolling in, gasps of white coveting my knees. Faint glimpses from car headlights penetrated the thick air far off to the left, but they are a million miles away.
And I am here.
I feel my eyes roll back into my head. I close them off from everything I'm seeing and focus them back inside. I let some of that fog in to mix around the other memories I keep here. Around the broken training wheels from the bike I tried to run away on. Around a toothpick that held an h'orderve from Sam's funeral, which was later redeposited in the bathroom sink of the funeral home. Around a small clump of confetti from the New Year's Eve Party where I first saw her.
I pull back out of my sanctuary and see that she has by now begun walking back to me. I smile seeing the concern on her face and pick up a jog to meet her. Not slowing down I engulf her in my shivering arms. We spin awkwardly around one and a half times. I counted. Then I take hold of both sides of her face and plant one. I want to apologize for how cold my hands must be, but for obvious reasons can't. I want to do a lot of things. But then, for just that one instant, I wanted to cry, but she would be concerned again.
I wanted to cry because my world had successfully been ravished with ease and childish formality.
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