We told each other all this would blow over, but that doesn’t seem to be happening, does it?” “No,” Marty agreed. Although he’d just gotten up, he felt tired. Very. “Not blowing over, blowing harder.” “Then there’s the suicides.” Marty nodded. “Felicia sees them every day.” “I think the suicides will slow down,” Gus said, “and people will just wait.” “For what?” “For the end, pal. The end of everything. We’ve been going through the five stages of grief, don’t you get it? Now we’ve arrived at the last one. Acceptance.” Marty said nothing. He could think of nothing to say.
