I could hear the breath of the runner behind me.

He had spent his life, it seemed, re-covering David and unsuffocating John.

Energy has seldom been found where we need it when we want it. Ancient nomads, wishing to ward off the evening chill and enjoy a meal around a campfire, had to collect wood and then spend time and effort coaxing the heat of friction out from between sticks to kindle a flame.

Heat burned in my cheeks, for I had kissed the opia quite passionately before I realized he was the spirit of a dead ancestor.