What is it about the power of a heartbeat? A whole lifetime can be lived between one pulse and the next. Or, at least, it felt that way to me.

When I opened my eyes in Mom's quarters, everything came into sharp focus. Her face hovering over mine, fear clear in her blue eyes, the scent of roasted meat mingling with some kind of scented candle burning nearby. The very touch of my clothing was foreign, abrasive in some areas, soft and flexible in others, while the brush of Mom's ...