“But maybe we shouldn’t,” she said, holding the eyelids to that little slit-watching the widening white crack, watching the river water pound it into the place where it wanted to be even if the River itself didn’t. “If we end here, it’ll be just like... a bad dream, won’t it? And maybe we’ll wake up somewhere else. I know we won’t,” she explained, “but we don’t have to know that... maybe if we all go, it’ll be quick.”
