It’s that fleeting moment when he stands before you—you exchange hellos and catch each other’s smile. Your heart beats quickly as if to defrost your body—because, indeed, your body feels like rime and your tongue like stone. Your feet at once begin to pace and time itself begins to race through the thick expanse between the two of you.

You are near, but the words you’ve rehearsed sound nothing like his voice—and you could just die if you heard his voice, just once more. You fumble through your vocal chords, reconsider, remiss.

And, by then, it’s too late—because you’ve missed your chance. He turns to escape before the words can leave your breath. What’s the word to describe this? Sinking, sinking, sinking, sinking, sinking, fleeting, sinking.