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“If you leave a door half open, soon you’ll hear the whispers spoken.”
Attempting to ignore the memory was like shoving at mist,
If his son’s memory was not literally true, then, like Pete’s own feelings of failure, it presumably still felt true enough, and that was the kind of truth that mattered most in the end.
He could still sense it there, in the same way that a stubbed-out candle smokes a little, but the fire and the brightness of it were gone.
The day was dead and the night was cool.
The world was so quiet that he imagined he could hear the steam rising from the cup.
