Later as we moved through to lunch, Fiona came up to me and said,"That was a lovely toast, Gibby. Your little poem summed up the situation wonderfully...for the occasion." It wasn't my little poem," I told her. "It is an old Celtic Blessing except for the second last line which I adapted for the occasion. The blessing would have saidAnd until we meet again, May God hold you in the palm of his hand," It was lovely anyway," she said.I smiled and took her hand and led her to the table so that she. I found her. A high school student, 19 years old, and crying. She didn’t notice me, had I not been able to read such things. I might of think I scared her off the edge. No, the grim and me both sensed her resolve. She jumped.I followed her and slowed time down for all but her ability to communicate with me. The look of shock would normally be amusing, but I don’t find this situation amusing.“What the, what is happening?” She screamed.I ignored the typical question for now. “I am, a powerful. More

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