#YOLO

We zipped along at forty-eight miles per hour, but I had just enough time to watch him return to the parked car on the gravel graveyard path. I had just enough time to see that his head was bent down and his heart was heavy. Who was it -- his mother, his sister, his uncle, his cousin? And what was their fate -- an unexpected freak accident or the slow torture of disease?


I had just enough time to realize that life is a vapor (like James said), and then I zipped along at forty-eight miles per hour. 

Just enough time,

just enough time. . .

how do I make it worth it?