She told me her name without caring that it was a lie, since everything else about her was too, and asked, “Will you come with me?”

  I said, “Yes.''

  So we lept before we looked and packed a picnic basket for our trip to the cosmos, full to the brim with fledgling fates and day-overripe mangoes that shattered into stardust when we surpassed the speed of light.

  When we came back down to Earth, nothing had changed except what mattered. She told me that I had cheated death, and I told her that I knew.

  She held my hands to show that she was impressed, and when she lifted her palms from mine I was left holding two weightless gifts that felt like finality. I looked to my hands, but all I saw was a tangled yo-yo and a blood-speckled quarter. George peered up at me with crimson-rimmed eyes that couldn’t even see the present, much less the future.

  I thanked her, then bashfully dissolved into the evening air. The yo-yo and the quarter clattered to the ground, ending the world with a spectacular fizzle.

  I hoped for better luck next time.