My best friend is keeping vigil as her mother lies dying from a terrible cancer. "Why is life so difficult?" I ask Sophie as I heave her into the car. I might have said hard. Sometimes I feel like a monster. Sometimes I am a monster. Heavy. This morning I slept with and woke to the stars. That's what it feels like. The space he brings me. "Are you flying?" he asks, and I say, "No, it's not like that." I want to say soar. The word weightless.