You recall afternoons talking on the phone while crouching in the bedroom closet, and being convinced your child would be the first Ivy League college student to graduate wearing pullovers at the ceremony.
By now the cabin boy, Parker, is lying at the bottom of the lifeboat in the corner because he had drunk seawater against the advice of the others and he had become ill and he appeared to be dying.
Then life and joy sprang reassured from every crouching hollow; every flower and bud and bird had a fluttering sense of them, and all the flashing of God's gaze merged into soft beneficence.
And even as we grew to feel more remote from the world as individuals, it also seemed that individual nations had begun to curl in on themselves, motivated by misguided notions of their own power and self-sufficiency.
The point of difficulty is your panicky and protective huddling within the core of a limited self, and your fear to set aside the endless doors between self and what seems to be not self, that you yourself have erected.
Curled up in an easy chair close by was the slight figure of Paul Seabury, who, like himself, lived at too great a distance from school to go home for the holidays.
As peolple elsewhere hunkered down at home to avoid covid-19, millions in Burundi crowded into polling stations on May 20th to vote in the general election.
All the others we can go off to infinity along these directions but maybe the reason we can't see the fourth dimension is that it's actually curled up.
Radiocarbon dating puts the oldest burial, a six-foot-two man posed in a tight crouch, at around 9,500 years ago, near the beginning of the Green Sahara.