he is no longer here: it’s a squeaky door, or the air conditioner or my husband’s snore.
we see him out of the corner of our eyes, and then instantly recognize that it’s not him, but his tan cushion, or a bag, or something else of similar color or size. he is everywhere, and nowhere.
my daughter wants to keep his toys, cushion, even his hair around the house, as is, at least for now. she explained a theory, that if the sun explodes, we on earth will have 8 minutes before everything is gone. she feels this way about finny: that she only has a limited amount of time before so 