| OCR Text |
Show 35 "I didn't come back because of Sasha, if that's what you're all thinking," Alan said, stirring the fire with a stick. "Not really anyway. A couple months ago I was teaching the first discussion in an apartment of sorts a few stories up and the windows were open. I couldn't believe someone could just leave the windows open, baiting me to jump out, you know? I mean, I know that sounds crazy. Whatever. But that's when I knew that I needed to come home. They put me on some medication for a while, but I knew that I needed to come home." Alan had church at 9 AM, and he was always sure to leave himself enough time to sleep for a couple of hours, change clothes and shave in time to get there. I was glad he was there to keep track of time-even when his ward met later, he always assumed someone had church at nine. My ward didn't meet until 11, but I still wanted to be back before my parents got out of bed. We kicked dirt to smolder the rest of the fire and we could see the fringes of the sun's glow as we started to walk back down the mountain. Chris saw apocalypse in that, too, and this time I could kind of see what he was talking about. The subtle morning light did look like it could intensify at any moment, like what was coming over the horizon might not be the sun as usual but a red-blooded blaze. I imagined fire from God being precise, fast and excited, like the electricity that runs up your spine when a pretty girl touches you-that electricity shooting across the valley and world, overcoming everyone who didn't ascend along the way. |
