To have stood and watched him jerk to death on that criminal’s tree then only days later see him walking around good as new, almost like nothing happened save for those scars? Then for him to be at the table a stretch of days eating and laughing just like before until suddenly everything sounds serious and he’s reeled back into the stars where he came from in the first place? To have witnessed his unbelievable conclusion
guaranteed a lifetime sentence of madness,
a madness which try as one might
could not be cured. It could only be endured.
But the enduring is something.
seek and you shall find
- Ann Patchett on Stealing Stories, Book Tours, and Staying Off Twitter lithub.com/ann-patchett-o… via @lithub 5 hours ago
- @microhuman Sure, Lori. Much grace your direction. 3 days ago
- A Slow Obedience in a Southerly Direction intouch.org/read/magazine/… 3 days ago