May 17, 2005

Dear Mr. Bush,

Suddenly, in the last week that I'll be spending the days with my son, time has shifted into fast-forward. You look out the window and cars drive by at twice their speed, people move in and out of their houses in that jerky, double-time action of old-time movies, the sun rises and sets and flowers open and close with the halting motion of public television science shows. You see it all race by in front of you, and you stand there powerless to do anything but watch it slip away.



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