Henry, wake up. There was a bony crack as his skull hit the porcelain and then Jonesy and Beaver were screaming and clutching each other, the sound of their horror deafening in the little tile-lined room. No crows cawing, no jays scolding, no woodpeckers pecking, no squirrels scuttering. Gotta get you the fuck home is what we got to do.
with early-stage Alzheimer's who had no business behind the wheel of a car in the first place, but that had only been part of it. I didn’t ever know much about him. One final note. He was curious — he supposed a man couldn't help being curious — but at the same time he didn't want to know.
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