Close your eyes, shake off your shoes. Dulled solar redness glows beyond eyelids, grass prickles toes and dust lies beneath your soles. Warmth brushes your arm as a hand slips around yours; somehow you know who it is. Open your eyes, and below a sky both bright with sun and somehow star-speckled black, your mother stands before you. This is the place out of time, where all humans find each other. Rustling footfalls approach, and another woman steps forward: your maternal grandmother. Maybe you spoke to her last week, or twenty years ago, or maybe you only know her from blurred photos. She
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