I will not count them: the prayer wheels, the meters, the pilgrims, the steps, the number of times I will feel the smooth patina of wood against my palm. I say to Emma: “I want to do this.” She assents.
I paused. Reflected. Then, “have you ever known something to be true, absolutely true, even though there was no way you could know it to be true, because there was no reason to think it was true? Something you can’t explain to anyone else, even explain to yourself?”
Sunlight sifts through leafy boughs. Green-tinged, it swaddles the room with peaceful rays. Two walls of glass panes open to nature’s embrace. City streets and city worries seem far removed.
“Do you hear it?”
There was a little breeze, a few roofed camping platforms, so we parked ourselves beneath one while the ’79 Holden Gemini baked out in the sun.