Thousand: Nine Hundred Twenty-Nine

are ready to tell all. To whom?” “To everybody,” I say, hearing how impossible that is. “Maybe,” I try again, “maybe just to the right person. Or people.” “The right person or the right people,” the angel echoes and I hear how ridiculous that sounds, too. Everybody has something to learn. “I still think it’s a good idea. If I try. If I had a body, one that could talk. One that.” I don’t know. “One that could show. One that could.” I don’t know what to say next. The angel is juggling its heads, passing them from hand to