I don’t think about him much anymore.
It doesn’t matter who he is. I could be talking
about Berryman, Daniel, or my father. The former
entranced me once, and Daniel died on the highway.
My father died while high. How is it that we have to
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Narrative is a hundred percent reader-supported. If you love what you’re reading, please make a one-time or monthly tax-deductible donation. Your gift of $60 or more includes a 1-year Backstage Pass with special features and exclusive previews.
