“It could be rebuilt, but so much of what it held was gone forever. Old novels, many of which had been autographed and personalized by authors now dead. The crooked tile floor my parents had installed in the bathroom more than ten years ago. Memories of helping to haul ruined carpet and old boxes out of the basement one spring after the sump pump failed, and later launching paper boats into the three inches of standing water from the bottom step. The loss hurt, but not as much as the way... the crowd had turned on me. It was like something from Lord of the Flies, primitive savagery summoned to the fore by fear. I had known many of them for most of my life. Played with them as kids. I glanced in the rearview mirror and wished I hadn’t. Dirt and blood crusted the side of my swollen, bruised face. A bloody gash crossed my forehead. I hadn’t even felt that one. “You know she’s probably following us,”MoreLessRead More Read Less
User Reviews: