“After, at the funeral, I thought that it was cruel that in the month before he died, he thought so much about the life he wanted to have.” “I don’t know how to talk to you about this,” Henry says, “because I’ve never been where you are. But I will be where you are, at some stage in the future, because it’s impossible for me not to be. And it seems to me as though you’re looking at it the wrong way around.” He tells me that maybe Cal got lucky. Those last days seemed so beautiful, filled with golden light. “Maybe he didn’t get screwed over by the universe. Maybe it was trying to cram
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