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Her voice floated around me, girly from the wine. I quickened my pace, trying to pull away from her and escape to the house. The key missed its mark and she plowed into me from behind — oof! poor baby, laughing — before the door burst open and we stumbled together across the vestibule. Hysterical laughter in my ear. My fingers jam painfully into the second door and my view blackens. In one sharp motion comedy I spin comedy around and deliver a two-handed shove, more of a chuck, launching her into comedy the center of the large glass pane to the side of the front door, her disbelieving face looking back at mine with curious calm. 38 HOURS AND 33 MINUTES AGO. The continuum of time slowed, transforming each heartbeat into a discrete, enduring event, able to be observed and contemplated from within the moment, as if I’d suddenly been exiled to a different flow of time.
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