by Katrina McDonnell

He will begin to lose his mind three years and five months before he stops breathing.

His greatest gift will evaporate slowly, leaving puddles that connect in brief flashes of brilliance. Until he forgets how to write.

She'd vowed that she wouldn't go through it a second time.


She will stare at him and dismiss it as hallucinations sparked by hearing their victory song. Nine months will have passed since he last knew her name.

"I told you he was a good man."

She'll have no voice, only a nod, and he'll grab her hand.

"Dance with me, CJ."


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