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Jeff went to his bedroom and read a book. Bad Brains by Kathe Koja. Mom had leafed through it awhile back, and she’d told him it might be “over his head.” But he didn’t care if he understood it or not. The words just felt good. Felt really good. Like every time he picked it up he slipped into a warm pool, bathwater, and the world hugged him, telling him things were crazy, yes, but we love you, kid, the world actually does love you.
As if the emotions were curling out the nostrils of their snouts, their natures begging for escape. Pearl smelled it. Something burning; safety, happiness, calm. As if the adult pigs themselves were burning, their bodies eaten by a feeling.
everything he was made of, everything he once was.
A man understanding too late that there was no retrieval of promise so long as you detonated into a thousand pieces before rectifying the past.
the unknown was infinite, the unknown was unknowable, and so it had no edge, no boundary, no finish line, no line at all, no ruler, no rules.
Why had he hit him back? Why hadn’t he just taken the hits his brother was going to give him?
“We’re not scared,” Jeff said. “Because we’re moving.”
We’re gonna have to get used to our new shapes and sizes.”
he didn’t want to be the kind of boy who feared.
