How it seemed like you could see everything, but certain things were blocked out, hidden.

Not for the first time, I wished both of us could just say what we meant. But that, like so much else, was impossible

As he heard me approach, he quickly leaped up, grabbing a nearby loaf of bread and holding it in front of him as if struck by a sudden desire to make a sandwich.

So maybe it wasn't the fairy tale. But those stories weren't real anyway. Mine were.

So much had happened that morning. Yet it was this image, this moment, that i kept going back to hours later, after we'd made it safely to the walkway and gone our separate ways to classes. How it felt to have the world moving beneath me, a hand gripping mine, knowing if i fell, at least i wouldn't do it alone.

From this distance, in the dimness, the model looked surreal, made up of parts filled with buildings, bordered by long stretches of empty space. It reminded me of the way cities and towns look when you are flying at night. You can't make out much. But the places where people have come together, and stayed, are collections of tiny lights, breaking up the darkness.

Like so many before them, they didn't care that my dad was only the messenger. They still wanted to shoot him.