fruitless

The man is in her home, in a way only dreams can justify; she acknowledges him kindly, vaguely. He watches her with their youngest daughter, and he scans the walls hoping not to find signs of Him. The walls are covered with children's artwork, none of which imply Him.

Then they are on a small, wooden go cart like vehicle turning onto a street of friendly modest houses on a warm summer evening. They face one another..the vehicle seems to ride along on its own. The man says, "I think the first time you are truly in love is when you are..." and they say "twelve," together. Recognizing the jinx, and they look up to the sky to find the one star to wish upon. There are hundreds.

He embraces her, contentedly, and she returns the embrace. He quietly says, "Don't leave, please" into her neck, but it is too late. 5:16 AM is calling for no reason.