A lamp was burning, the fiery glow leaking out through the cracks around the door. Inside, the man sat at his desk. The overhead lights were off.
At his left elbow was a stack of paper squares, perhaps five inches thick. He selected the topmost sheet and readied a pen. Tear tracks stained his cheeks. After a moment, he began to write, a short sentence of a few words. Then, slowly, he folded the paper, folded again. Gradually, he shaped it into a crane.
Twenty-three paper cranes lay scattered on the floor behind him.
He reached for the next sheet.
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