hic vigilans somniat
...as we’re passing through the room, I stop and take note of our surroundings: The concrete walls of the service tunnel, the exposed pipes . . . it’s all so familiar. Then I have it. In a flash of recognition, I turn to my companions — he is tall and dark skinned, she is waif-like and pale — and say… Continue reading almost
...and we’re walking together, my son and my youngest daughter, on the grounds of the local university. It is late afternoon, the sun just beginning to set behind the hills. I stop for a moment to inspect a statue. My son continues on, leading his sister by the hand up the pathway. After a few minutes, I catch up with him… Continue reading statues