February, 2003 Last practice before Grand Prix Final. No Mistakes! I repeated that over and over in my mind as Chris pulled me into our pairs spin, our blades tracing tight circles on the ice. We whirled around, and I caught a glimpse of Sergei, our coach and my fiance, keenly observing us. In two […]
And this is, of course, is what fiction does. It brings the dead back to us. It allows thought, conversation, an alternative afterlife. It reminds us that we are not alone, that we can find moments of respite beyond our own flickering humanity and that, while those who are no longer with us can still be remembered, death’s dominion is neither dark nor desolate.