There has been an auto accident and a woman is injured. She is semi-conscious but bleeding profusely. I do basic first aid and the paramedics arrive. They ask me "What do you want, doc?" I bark orders, get stabilizing devices, hang IVs, "throw me an arterial cut kit" and perform minor surgery there in the street.
I have seen it in my mind. I am lying somewhere. He is holding me in his arms. Behind him, through a gauzy haze, I sense a crowd watches. I know I am dying.
I look into his eyes, pale blue doors I have entered many times, and I smile. I am so glad he is here. I am so glad it is him I will see last. I can't think of anything more I could want. I am deeply comforted.
He searches my eyes, never leaving their gaze. Every truth we've shared is making itself known. I feel his thoughts and staggering compassion. I know this is right, it has always been right. And it had to be him. Again.
I like trees because they seem more resigned
to the way they have to live than other things do.