I failed. For the fi rst time, I hated to be a woman of words and images. The heard words had been knitted with the unheard words, and both had just been sewed into my nerves and my veins. The pattern was astronomical. The holes were galactic. And the words, the words, the words......were total ruins of the whole world.
It was a time for a good cry. In the end, I transferred six hundred to Long, hoping he could do something about it. Oddly, I sensed that father’s whole point was just to beg me to live a normal life.