Pitched

Tucker and I regularly spend three days together, every weekend, alone.  I wouldn't trade my time with him for the world.  But sometimes that time stretches and it feels as though I could hold each second in my palm, palpate it before it's on its way.  My tired state conjures infinity while his self-discovery gets too close to self-destruction.  Sinkholes suddenly open up between dawn and lunch time.  My repertoire of entertaining activities vaporizes while he and Colby rumble underfoot like boiling water.

Sometimes though, a long, empty day can be salvaged.

JEB