It didn’t make sense, that you could run that far and that fast towards a fire after the car died. We lost power on Ocean Beach, listening to the radio, but you said it so easily, you said just give me a second, and I’ll be back. And you ran out to the bonfire twenty yards ahead of us, you said, I’ll be right back.
    I knew sand lived with snow as the hardest ground to run on. I knew the bottle of wine we shared as the sun set might slow you down. I watched you press yourself upon the sa...