Flashlight

by Susan Choi

He seemed willing to embrace anything. Was this because he was empty, a ravenous void, or because he was full?

Bright ribbons of recollection, each thinly cut from the overall fabric and beaten hard by the mind’s wind.

Crossing from ignorance to recognition required just the one step—yet she remained with a foot in the old territory, perhaps even an eye on each side of the line. It was possible to think, in the same dumbstruck exhalation, both Of course and Impossible.