“A part of me always knew it. When you truly think about it, alone in the deeping hour, when the music stops and the babble stills and you stare hard into that bloody mirror of your soul, it’s impossible to reconcile the idea of a benevolent creator with a life that looks like this. To convince yourself the one above cares, when there’s so much horror and hurt and hate in the world. Only the blind can look into hellfire and smile. Only the coward raises a fist to his child and calls it love. And I was reminded of that time I spoke to Patience, then. Her little dead bird cupped in her palms.
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