The shadow is what we think of it; the tree is the real thing.” —Abraham Lincoln Mac kicks right. I jump right. He kicks left. I get him again. Left, then right. First slow. Then fast. Every time, I focus on his foot and his eye. Mac kicks again. “Got it.” He spits on the ground. “I don’t beli...
That guy in the wheelchair?” “Yes.” Dave said. “Well, right now he still needs a walker. But he says he can feel himself getting stronger every minute.” “Don’t say it’s a coincidence,” Emma said. Again, she looked around, like this was national security. “I looked it up in three medical dictionar...