in a way I had never seen.
I didn’t stay to identify it.
I kept walking.
The ushers opened the double doors.
October air rushed inside.
Cold.
Clean.
Indifferent.
Gold.
Marin squinted at me from my hip.
“Is church over?” she asked.
“Ours is,” I said.
And we walked into the sun.
We were nearly at the car when I heard someone running across gravel.
Danny.
Tie loose.
Breathless.
He had left June by the car with the heater running.
He stopped in front of me with his hands open.
