The way it looked was fishy. The way it felt was wrong. Today, the years tic as if nothing happened. The watch on his wrist didn’t even flinch. Where do you go from here? Abby descends but she thinks she’s going up because you can never tell which way is up or down inside the womb. Hail though, he knows. He feels the depths he’s plunging into. The sky clears and the sun shines brighter than yesterday. He sweats. He feels little puddles of water collecting in his palms. The cemented sidewalk turns grass. A grasshopper chirps. Then a bird swoops down so fast he can’t even tell what kind it was. Hail has a thing for wings. Not because he grew a pair for a few days on his way to Abby. He loved them far before Abby came into his consciousness. There’s a way but it’s all ways. There’s a will and it’s growing inside Hail like a worm. Makes him shine like a candle on the water.