He began to take his next breath, and, somehow, the sheer force of the inhale told me that this was it. “Goodbye, Bodge,” I cried. As the final traces of air escaped his lungs, his mouth opened slightly wider, and the upper right corner of his lip curled upward. And it froze. I waited for another breath, but I knew one was not coming. Kit was gone. An overwhelming sense of loss spread throughout every ounce of my five-foot-ten frame. Like a vacuum was sucking all the energy out of me. Like a chunk of me had broken off and attached itself to Kit as he drifted away. The emptiness, and the
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