Before We Sit Down, He Puts His

He Pulls Me Over The Railing And Against His Chest, Gathering Me Into His Arms, Easing An Arm Under My Knees. I Press My Face Into His Shoulder, And There Is A Sudden, Hollow Silence.

No Selfishness Or Insecurity Kept Him From Seeing The Full Extent Of Her Goodness, As It So Often Does With The Rest Of Us. That Kind Of Love May Only Be Possible In Abnegation. I Do Not Know.

Maybe There's More We All Could Have Done, But We Just Have To Let The Guilt Remind Us To Do Better Next Time.

To Me, When Someone Wrongs You, You Both Share The Burden Of That Wrongdoing—the Pain Of It Weighs On Both Of You. Forgiveness, Then, Means Choosing To Bear The Full Weight All By Yourself.

Uriah Drops His Tray Next To Me. It Is Loaded With Beef Stew And Chocolate Cake. I Stare At The Cake Pile. “there Was Cake?” I Say, Looking At My Own Plate, Which Is More Sensibly Stocked Than Uriah’s. “yeah, Someone Just Brought It Out. Found A Couple Boxes Of The Mix In The Back And Baked It,” He Says. “you Can Have A Few Bites Of Mine.” “a Few Bites? So You’re Planning On Eating That Mountain Of Cake By Yourself?” “yes.” He Looks Confused. “why?” “never Mind.