She had a sense of herself being brain dead: running on tubes and machines.
People think they own time. They have watches and clocks and digital pulses. But they are wrong. Time owns them.
I thought of the parable of the prodigal son. We had made merry for the beloved child's return too - but what happens when the beloved child doesn't say she's sorry? The parable doesn't talk about that. Jesus figures of course you're sorry. Jesus, I thought, you blew it. Not everybody is sorry.
She was a mind floating in an ocean of confusion.
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