"I..."

Erskine had no idea what he wanted. The docks seemed so laughably insignificant now. A lot of things seemed laughably insignificant now, and some small part of him still couldn't quite put a finger on why. Erskine was letting his voice trail off again, he noted dimly, but since he was also still staring, he decided to let that one slide.

"I've known you," he said, voice shaking, "for over a year."

This couldn't be right. He had to be imagining it. He had to be imagining it because God had way better things to do than driving Erskine around the place two or three times a week. He had to be imagining it because if he wasn't, he'd met God before both Dexter and even Ghastly had.

Then again... running into the exact same cabbie all around Dublin, all those coincidental taxi rides... that face.

But it was Micah. This was the same man Erskine talked to about the results of football matches, complained to about Corrival, told all about prank calling Prave at the Church of the Faceless pretending to be Grandma Carey just because he and his former general were bored.