Quiet Time

What must it be like to float just beneath the surface, just out of reach of the lights, the sounds, the life going on around you? How long will it take before those who love you and gather to keep watch stop pleading with you to return and accept that you're there, but not there? And what if you could hear it all-the hushed conversations about your progress and set-backs, the mundane and the extraordinary events happening just beyond your reach? The anguish your husband feels. The way your best friend comforts and supports him. And you can't even scream, "I'm here! I'm still right here." What if you had longed for a respite-some quiet time-and your wish was granted but in the most horrific way?