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They didn’t have babysitters in those days. A wonderful invention, babysitters. With this invention two people could be lovers forever.
Shortly before the baby’s birth, he fell hard on the bathroom tiles, cracked his skull, dipped the wires of his brain into his heart’s blood. Short circuit! He lost twenty, thirty years in the flood, the faces of nephews, in-laws, the names of two Presidents, and a war.
Jack asked me, Isn’t it a terrible thing to grow up in the shadow of another person’s sorrow?
Thank God capitalism has a war it can pull out of the old feed bag every now and then or we’d all be dead.
We had an extraordinary amount of silence after that.
