Maybe Forgiveness Is Just The

We Are Not People Who Touch Each Other Carelessly; Every Point Of Contact Between Us Feels Important, A Rush Of Energy And Relief.

Uriah Drops His Tray Next To Me. It Is Loaded With Beef Stew And Chocolate Cake. I Stare At The Cake Pile. “there Was Cake?” I Say, Looking At My Own Plate, Which Is More Sensibly Stocked Than Uriah’s. “yeah, Someone Just Brought It Out. Found A Couple Boxes Of The Mix In The Back And Baked It,” He Says. “you Can Have A Few Bites Of Mine.” “a Few Bites? So You’re Planning On Eating That Mountain Of Cake By Yourself?” “yes.” He Looks Confused. “why?” “never Mind.

Since I Was Young, I Have Always Known This: Life Damages Us, Every One. We Can’t Escape That Damage. But Now, I Am Also Learning This: We Can Be Mended. We Mend Each Other.

What's This About Flashing Underwear?" Says Uriah, Sidestepping A Bunk. "whatever It Is, I'm In.

Though I Know That He Had Something To Do With The Attack Simulation, And With All Those Deaths, I Find It Difficult To Pair Those Actions With The Man I See In Front Of Me. I Wonder If This Is How It Is With All Evil Men, That To Someone, They Look Just Like Good Men, Talk Like Good Men, Are Just As Likeable As Good Men.