They talked of the future as if it were something tangible and within reach, like a ripe pear hanging over the fence from a neighbor's garden, whereas I had known for so long now that the future had been attacked by worms that had crept into it and eaten its heart. Faith might be a good neighbor and hang fruit over the fence but something else was needed to wield the arsenic spray.
Tuesday, December 1, 2015
Faces in the Water - Pg 222
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