know the meaning of this thing, this event. I watch the faces of the people in the church, in the line at the wake, around the grave. And words appear in my head. Sad. Awful. Tragedy. Loss. But I can’t feel those words. It’s like if you said, ‘Alexa, explain tragedy,’ she’d define it. But it wouldn’t explain the feeling of tragedy. Is this making any sense?” “Of course,” she said. “You’re on the outside, looking in. I know the feeling.”
