He said quietly, “Dinosaurs are all extinct anyway.” “I agree.” “They’re all dead. They can’t come back.” I heard the uncertainty in his voice. I said, “They absolutely can’t come back.” He gave me a serious look. “Nothing comes back.” I got halfway through my therapeutically supportive, kindly reply. What I was starting to say was, “The past is extinct,” when he interrupted me with a shout, but a happy one.
