How many hours have I spent reading the final page of books? The moments I absorbed the last words written while the baby napped felt almost stolen. From where, I do not know.
I said, "The one hundred pages due yesterday are now, finally, done." She said, "And here I was enjoying a quiet morning with no numbers." I said, "You quip while I try to enter the deep satisfaction of being caught up." She replied, "Looking upon the bronze serpent lifted up for all to see always saves the least of these." I said, "Don't be getting all biblical on me in my moment of small satisfaction." She said, "I just finished my reading of Simone Weil who wrote, 'the solution to a balance between the individual and the collective is precisely what people are thirsting for today.'"
prodigal reading will eventually cover all possibilities before the time when we each walk along alone behind our own funeral procession