For a moment I became vacant. The scene around me drifted away and it created its own sphere of creation with me watching because I had surrendered to the tug that kept me in place. To my left, his head bent over the shallow and thin ceramic bowl in front of him slurping the soup of green strips, of jiggling cubes, of cuts of carrot, and of noodles that were dots of meaning hidden in the bottom of the pot that you only find if you know that they exist.

Sitting on my right, she leaned back briefly in her chair before moving toward the table. She placed her elbows on it and placed hands under her arms with an expression that nature had given her no other view of being except to be with this man over the last fifty years and that she knew that this view was divinity.

There was no grace anywhere and there was grace everywhere.

Between one beat of my heart my vision was shaded with white, captured only from my view forever. There was a breath of something that fell away from me.


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