The Finder didn’t lose the future, only her knowledge about it. She lost the narrative. The Finder stopped knowing how to tell herself the story of her life. Where there had been a future, or at least the promise of one, there was now an ellipsis: dot dot dot. The ellipsis is where the sentence trails off, where you drop the thread, where the train of thought steams off in some unknown direction. The ellipsis is where you lose your partner, or your parents, or your child, or the idea of a child, or the hope for a child. The ellipsis is where you lose your house, or your job, or your health, or
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