Dan never wanted to admit it but when he ran around Itova with the sun beating down his back he dreamed of that one time he played rooftop chicken at the orphanage. He dreamed of Mary’s chapped lips on his shoulder, Ezra’s hands after a day of beach combing and Isaac’s cautious confession of love; (Its your eyes and Mary’s breath and Ezra’s heart, they’ve been revealed and I can’t stop now). In this moment he knows what it means to not be dead; death is a singular moment. Living is a cascading series of sounds, love, back-pedaling, learning to swim, making sandwiches with slapdash ingredients and trying not to starve, beating death back with a stick.
"Don’t lose your grip now."
He doesn’t look back as dust is kicked off the streets, eyes bearing down on the horizon line. Moon strut.
Tonight, he’ll make fish stew.