"Did you kill the lizard yourself?" I asked. But no, it had still been alive when he ate it.
The question mark that was in my heart now has faces.
We held hands. With the other, each of us held a knife. There was a bottle of pepper spray under the pillow.
Now we were drifting, believing there had to be a reason for all that was happening, and all that was not happening so that something else could.
Maybe we were ready to forge our own path, one that no one but us had travelled this way.
When Sara and I set out on the Camino we experienced the future as a kind of nostalgia.