Billy Summers

by Stephen King

can’t help how you feel. Feelings are like breathing, they come in and go out.

He said fiction wasn’t the truth, it was the way to the truth, and Billy can now understand that. Especially when it came to writing about war, and wasn’t that what his story was mostly about? Kissing in that ruined Mercedes with Robin Maguire, aka Ronnie Givens, had only been a truce. Most of the rest was fighting.

It’s cold comfort, but cold is better than none.

He gave her the mountains and the stars, not to own but at least to look at, and that means a lot.

But hell will still be waiting for you, Georgie. And if there is such a place, I’ll probably meet you there. We’ll have a drink. Brimstone on the rocks.

Life would be better if Shakespeare wrote it, that’s what I think.

‘I’ll think about it tomorrow, for tomorrow is another day.’ ”

She stands looking across the gulf of cold air between this side and that, hands in her pockets, thinking she could create worlds. Billy gave her that chance. She is here. She is found.