The E-house was broken and battered and falling apart. In a way, it was like us, and it was a comfortable fit, made of old memories and new reality.
We stayed there a week or so, the four that remained.
And we talked of the future. Fang spoke of wanting to dedicate more time to his blog, like I had done with my journal.
He spoke of wanting to leave us for a while and meet those kids who had helped us, of keeping up the activism. After all, weren't we saving the world?
Fang was gone in the night.