I like the idea that when I die, I will have a long sit-down chat with
God and get answers to all my questions. For example, those apple cores
that I threw out of car windows when I was a child—did any of them become
trees? Few boys or men had ever asked me out. I told myself that it
was because I was almost 6-feet tall. Was that true or was there something
humbling I needed to know?

Autore: Kristine K. Stevens