[ She stops a few footsteps after he does, and she's not … she's not looking at him. She knows the face he's wearing. She remembers it, despite the years separating them. It was one of those little details that hadn't slipped through her fingers. ]

… He asked me for an hour, and I gave it to him, five minutes at a time. "Five more minutes" is how I've been living for … [ too long ] years.

Maybe I was still a kid when I killed an alien for the first time. Maybe I was still a kid when I thought it was funny to dodge a bullet wearing a sundress and sandals. I wasn't a kid when I killed another human being before they could put a bullet through Idaho.