hearing all time--since there is nothing like days, minutes, or years--a continuous hum of pleading

questions and requirements and the right shade of red paint and the same (at least, if not better) house to go under it and an A+ in Algebra and the right boy to ask her to the prom and a pinker, softer, more flowing prom gown than Alica would wear and and and, things

that made Him shake His head and the long white hair that drifted away to form clouds

of questions that answered no questions and answers that fell from the sky like broken winged meteors on a hot summer night