update from sparkleup

writing/sawtooth/limerent-object/discernment.md

@@ -140,7 +140,7 @@ And so he waited.
 
 Dee wished it were night. He wished he could once more sit in the quad and look up at the stars, or down at the grass and try to differentiate the shades of green, there in the dark where color eluded him, to find in that liminal state some sensation of the Lord.
 
-At least he could get up from where he was and away from this edifice of concrete and glass. It was, he was promised, beautiful in its own way. But around behind the Abbey, toward the lake, a small path wound through the woods, and there, between the trees and beside the water, stood the statue of St. Kateri Tekakwitha, the only other coyote saint he'd ever come across, and the saint most venerated by his father back home.
+At least he could get up from where he was and away from this edifice of concrete and glass. It was, he was promised, beautiful in its own way. But behind the Abbey, toward the lake, a small path wound through the woods, and there, between the trees and beside the water, stood the statue of St. Kateri Tekakwitha, the only other canonized coyote he'd ever come across, and the saint most venerated by his father back home.
 
 *...O Israel, hope in the Lord! For with the Lord there is steadfast love, and with him is great power to redeem...*
 
@@ -204,7 +204,7 @@ Dee sighed and slouched in his chair.
 
 The Saint Bernard looked cautious, waited for him to continue.
 
-"I mean, I get what you're saying. I think..." He swallowed drily, straightened up in his chair. "I think agree, too." There it was. There was the admission. He'd said it at last.
+"I mean, I get what you're saying. I think..." He swallowed drily, straightened up in his chair. "I think I agree, too." There it was. There was the admission. He'd said it at last.
 
 His advisor visibly relaxed.
 
@@ -230,7 +230,7 @@ With his possessions packed away, Dee had little to do beyond pray and spend as
 
 The library and the woods, the quad, the lakes, the sky.
 
-The Saint Bernard was waiting for him, sitting on the stone and cement bench by the statue of St. Kateri Tekakwitha. The dog had rested his shoulders on his knees and clasped his hands, and was looking down between his feet through the opening this has created. Or, well, not looking. Father Borenson was not looking at anything.  He had the absent expression of thought or prayer.
+The Saint Bernard was waiting for him, sitting on the stone and cement bench by the statue of St. Kateri Tekakwitha. The dog had rested his shoulders on his knees and clasped his hands, and was looking down between his feet through the opening this had created. Or, well, not looking. Father Borenson was not looking at anything.  He had the absent expression of thought or prayer.
 
 Dee had been making a round of all his favorite spots on this, his last day, and his final stop was here. A statue, a stone bench, a lake. Trees and heavy air.
 
@@ -244,7 +244,7 @@ The dog shook his head and leaned back against the bench, patting the spot next
 
 After a moment's hesitation, Dee accepted the invitation and sat down, paws resting in his lap. Conversing sitting side by side like this was a mixed blessing. He didn't feel obligated to maintain eye contact, which was always a relief, but he was also left with the disconcerting feeling that there was a place he *ought* to be looking, that it ought to be at what whoever he was speaking with was looking at.
 
-*No wonder I wasn't not cut out for this.*
+*No wonder I wasn't cut out for this.*
 
 Borenson was the first to break the silence. "Dee, do you know what discernment is?"