Ask those bastards.’ He looked over to where the huge, filthy birds sat, their naked heads sunk in the hunched feathers.”Yes, naked heads, that was right. There were things I still needed to set right. I had to set a course and stick to it, build and not destroy, find a path to the light. There was Harry, dying in Africa, unable to love the woman who loved him, hurting her instead, full of bile. “It was not her fault that when he went to her he was already over.” Dying from the inside.

Source: New York Times November 29, 2019 21:45 UTC