Wandering Stars

behind. I was flooded with an ecstatic joy which, mingled with my grief, brought me to a sudden awareness that death wasn’t an end at all, but a beginning. I felt as if there was an opening created by my longing, through which nature, who was also Annie, could communicate with me. I understood that I was the cicada too. Annie’s death split my heart

In the Ward of Fevered Minds Bed after bed, child after child. Some calm, some thrashing. Some laughing, some wailing. Calling for mommy. Calling for God. One sits up, eyes open, asking. I go to him, sit, answer. He nods, falls back, gone again. I was once in a bed like them— fevered, deluded. Now I’m in a chair— I suppose it’s better. A roomful of

And what were they to one another? Five strangers, now co-workers, who were also roommates and among a tiny percentage of humans left awake on Earth.

In a single moment, I could see how many times over a lifetime I had similarly removed myself from life in order to spare others my presence, walking ahead before I could get left behind.