I am equally full of rage that she cannot love the things I love, the things I might rescue first from a fire. I grieve, unreasonably, that she is blind to the beauty of words.
But, never mind. We put down Billy Blue Hat and take up Odysseus. The bridge may be broken but it will be mended and, in the meantime, I’ll carry her on my back, through the torrent, to the world of the imagination.