An avid reader in many genres, I love to share books that have given me much pleasure. He reached out a hand gropingly, sagged, and toppled out of the chair to the floor, where he lay very still. The man’s statement was explicit, and spoken with confidence. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. But not so much a pig as that man. ‘—without telling her why,’ he finished, ignoring the interjection. We have only those phantoms called memories, which are the husks of dreams. “The point is we’re not toys, toys isn’t the word; we’re litter. She reflected before answering. ‘You put that thing away now, missie.
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