(0439443849)
“I once believed that life was a gift. I thought whatever I wanted I would someday possess. Is that greed, or only youth? Is it hope or stupidity? As far as I was concerned the future was a book I could write to suit myself, chapter after chapter of good fortune. …I had no idea that all stories unfold like white flowers, petal by petal, each in its own time and season, dependent on circumstance and fate.”.......
“I sat down at the table with the pen and the ink. I spread out the clean white pages.
Then and there, I began to tell their story.”
Between these two quotes lie 116 pages of wonderful grief-filled prose.
Read it. You’ll remember the character. I will.
No comments:
Post a Comment