And did the curtain really close?  What was it?  What was this mind movie—in two parts—it’s ending naked and bare, a repetition of something already spoken…?  That day.  That day Johnny Tribout and David Threnody were judged.  Their future judged.  That day was just a day.  All the words in between—the thoughts and emotions—containing the ending in them.  So when the ending comes you’re left with only memories.  The ending itself empty.  No voice.  No voice to speak it.  This the surprise of everything new.  And the words for the next chapter.

            How does it feel?  Those moments when the world continues and something in your life ends?  Maybe David learned something from this.  About how really the world never ends.  Just your faith in it.  Usually after you thought the world was your world.  Like your life is a story.  A story everyone wants to read.  This in youth.  As you see secrets unfold.  In ways of handling your life and what you’ve come to now…  David went to Mississippi and then he went to Mississippi again.  The first when the world was his world.  And the second in entering the world of another.  A friend.  Because he had a friend now—in Johnny Tribout.  And like water running down the glass of a mirror David saw a distorted image of his first visit to Mississippi in what happened with Johnny and Nina—his future in a new direction thanks to Nina’s father.  And maybe that’s what he saw in his mind movie.  In how David remembered it—later, on mornings with coffee after long dreams—how he saw his return to Mississippi, and the part he had to play now.  That old feeling.  As a child operating on all the surfaces of their imagination.  Because how does it feel?  When all your imaginations on yourself come to the surface?  Each situation of a normal day on fire with secret cameras reading your thoughts.  A day of coming through and out windows…  And then, then the surface again.  And how the situation you’re in reminds of you of a time before when you were in the same situation—and you made it—and you’re going to make it now.  You see the clock move.  You hear the next song being played.  And the routines continue—soft, sweet routines—the dulcimer beat of mind rhythms.  A time for everything.  Each in its ordered place.  This to comfort you.  Comfort you in a well-remembered memory of what all your imaginations question.  In the deeper meaning of it…  How does it feel?  To be the center of your world yet have it synchronized to the world around you, a world not a war?  David Threnody had a friend now.  And maybe he lost what he was planning to do, but in losing the plan he gained something else.  That good feeling of seeing someone falling in love and feeling what that means, when with time it’s taken away from you—replacing the emotion with a choice.  A choice to remember that emotion when you’re placed in that situation, when you watch someone unsure, going through that same situation…  The curtain never closes.  Because the story continues in what’s hidden in the end.  That world always continues.  And pretty soon you get used to living in it….  The fall 1941…