I paused. Honest answer? I don’t know anymore. I was raised with the resurrection story—the stone rolled away, the empty tomb. Now I’m something vaguer. A hopeful agnostic. A father who wants his son to have wonder without walls.
I smiled into my pillow. That bite—a single gnaw mark I’d carefully carved with a paring knife at 11:30 PM—was the finest special effect I’d ever produced. Better than any CGI. Better than any PowerPoint slide from my corporate life. proud father v0 13 0 easter westy
Not a finished man.
I closed the phone.