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Oh, is that all

Wednesday 9/13/23

This is how you do it. From this revised work that is going into The Solution to the World's Problems. This is what I care about: power in writing. Sheer power. How powerful something is. Emotionally powerful. If writing doesn't have power, I'm not going to be interested in it. The more power it has, the more I'm going to care.

Had she also been able to exist outside of herself, she might have heard them in the bloom of health, or as they were back when when they’d been happiest. Were filled with the most hope. Or, if they possessed little or no hope, had found a dusting, a crumble, of hope again, which is the greatest form of hope there is.

“But do we have time?” they’d ask the woman who was now within reach, their tone awestruck, but gentle and curious, less doubtful than amazed.

“Yes, we have time,” the giver of care would answer, and the person who was barely alive in one way, and yet fully alive in another, would stand and together they’d walk from the room, unseen but moving all the same.

The person who walked once more would visit people, ideas, forms, wishes, hopes. They’d laugh, cry, smile, and dream as they went, the giver of care by their side. These were the longest walks ever taken and they required no time at all.

At the end of the travels, the pair came back to the room from where they had started. The dreamer—if that’s what they were—returned to their bed, nestled in life both within itself and beyond. They took a moment—and a breath—and then set out for another journey, without fear. And they never felt alone as they left, even the people who always had.

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