"I had walked far and was seated on the side of the road, hot and exhausted, when I saw him...
... I was returning from the last farewell to the dearest friend I had in the world.
His eyes looked straight ahead and he seemed not to see me slumped there in the dust. There was an eagerness about him. He looked as though he might be sensing the approach of something with wings that might arrive and take him unaware, and more than anything he wanted to meet it and be caught up in the glory. I was hardly aware of this impression before it was gone and I thought perhaps the sun had touched my head and the whole thing, even the man himself, was an illusion.''
(From ''BEHOLD WE COME'', written by Nancy Fullwood)
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