These lines on my face, this stark streak of gray in my hair; when did these arrive? I’m still a young adult, aren’t I? At least, until I look in the mirror. Then reality shrugs and settles on me like a cloak. But, at least I can still keep reality away when it counts. Like that day of the battle, when adrenaline told reality to beat feet back home. When I did something remarkably brave, or stupid...