You sit in the dark in the middle of the night swaying to a little music and not really noticing the glow of the lights or the movement of the air at the behest of the window fan.
That’s how it goes, how the moments of life get away from you, how they get away from every generation that came before you.
You always thought that your parents were joined at the hip somehow, that other sets of best friends were joined at the hip somehow, that other employees and their bosses were joined at the hip somehow, but nobody’s joined at the hip, nobody’s joined at all; they’re all just making promises out of air and living on faith.
You can decide, if you want to, to live on faith forever. If that’s your decision, though, you’d better hope that you faith was justified, because you’re trafficking in one of those big risks. One of those psychic risks.
That’s how it goes, how the moments of life get away from you.
They’re like chord successions; they’re ephemeral, they come and go and in the meantime occupy lots of space and cause people to swing back and forth a little as though they were dancing.