August 8, 2010

She came at him like a faith healer, her hand hard against his forehead, her smile big as the light he expected to walk into one day. When he was with her, he felt better than he ever had before, but she was as impossible to understand as if she spoke in tongues.

“Don’t you get it?” she asked. “We’re meant to be together. That’s all it means.”

He didn’t get it, but he liked the way she showed him the path with her hands and mouth. All her conviction might make a believer out of him after all.

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