This was his time now, the early morning when nothing stirred except the night owl and the crickets, and the moon and the stars were on center stage. He followed his and Pat’s familiar path into the woods, armed with his flashlight. Five minutes into his run in the deepest foliage, as a possum ran across his path and almost sent him reeling, he heard her voice in his head:
Keep that flashlight up so you can see where you’re going. He smiled to himself. Maybe it was an illusion. Maybe he was just plain crazy. It didn’t matter, though, because it was his own personal craziness, a warm feeling in his heart that he didn’t share with anybody. Nor was he troubled that she had seen him with Molly. In all probability there would be others. Pat was above that now-a spirit devoid of human frailties, unburdened by time and space-free at last.