Class is in session. We went to an old elementary school with wooden desks one per student. No double desk for us. We were in the same classroom from 3rd to 6th grade. She sat on the other side of the room. We orbited but barely interacted. We danced in the same folk-dance group during those years. We must have been partners at some point. Colleen remembers being in the car when the rear passenger door swung open during a turn and I swung out over the street. She helped rescue me. I don’t remember she was in the car. I remember my dad kept driving along as though nothing had happened. We are together now. The circumstances that brought this to be were so tenuous as to be nearly invisible. But then again, it wouldn’t be the story it is if it were otherwise.