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320 pages, Kindle Edition
First published June 11, 2013
I can see the five silver bars three feet beyond my arm’s reach. They shift into double vision as ten lines of coil, prison garments, a staff of music.”
Confused spears of darkness spiked through the metal bars…”
[About her newest lawyer] "…his voice [was] docile as a prostrated ocean, as if he had slipped from his mother’s womb begging for a nonprofit position and studio apartment to match.”
[About the mother of the murder victim who wants to understand the crime] “She’s stuck there in that ‘why’ scratch on her record repeating ad infinitum until I pluck the disc from its player, clean off the scratch with a simple puff of my lips, and hand it back to her to hear the music properly. She hasn’t a clue that records have been replaced with newer technology.”
It was an anomalous Tuesday night in 2002 when the phone calls started. For over a week…my apartment became a torrent of moral decay. … Whirls of tornadic subjugation seeped through the little holes of the telephone receiver…”
Nothing else came out, despite his necessitous expectations.”
I think the thing I actually miss the most is watching a sun sit still on a solid evening hour, its talons skewering the clouds beneath.”
I watched from the defendant’s table during every clumsy excuse. Melodious sacraments to my dissonant entr’acte, perpetuating a system that works more often than it does not.”