Duh.

"Matthew ten, verse twenty-nine," Vincenzo Giuliani said quietly. "'Not one sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it.'"

"But the sparrow still falls," Felipe said.

Spending part of the day listening to the latest cut on my iPod, looking for things to adjust, places to "add a little air," things to irritate Al with on Monday. Monday we wrap this sucker up.

I was driving home from work yesterday with a splitting headache. I was listening to the end. And I started crying. I surprised myself. I have told this story countless times, in just this way. I never get lost in it when telling it, I'm just not that kind of actor. But hearing it ... God. We still miss that boy so much.

Right now we're in Athens, visiting Toni's family. I was walking Orson around, trying to get him to go to sleep, when I spotted a copy of The Sparrow on the shelf in Connie's office. The paperback edition has a number of questions in the back for "readers' groups" - the kind of questions we ask as actor-teachers for Great Lakes. Why do characters make certain choices, what were alternative outcomes, what would you do in a similar circumstance.

It has been a while since I have read the book, but of course, this question caught my eye; "The Sparrow" tells a story by interweaving two time periods -

Well, okay, I didn't need to get any further than that. Did I know I got the structure for my play from this book? Did I know that once, and then forget? It doesn't bother me to think I did, I feel that falls more under the heading of "inspiration" than that of "plagiarism." But after so much reflection, it stuns me to think I could have un-remembered it. Or that I may never have even thought of it.