zhang189

@@@@@I shot myself in the head
You got your head crushed by a payloader
He waved his hand as if to indicate this made no
differenceThen he used the hand to grip my
surviving wristHis fingers were cold”I have
questions, muchachoHow come she stopped painting?
And how come I never started?”
“I can’t say for certain why she stoppedMaybe
she forgot – blocked it out – or maybe she
deliberately lied and deniedAs for you, your
talent’s empathyAnd on Duma Key, empathy got
raised to telepathyBut it’s also
completely goneWant to know something, amigo?”
“Sure
He cocked a thumb at the tense family group across
the room from usThey had gone back to their
discussionPop was now shaking his finger at Mom”A couple of months ago, I
could have told you what that hoopdedoo was about
Now all I could do is make an educated guess
“And probably come out in much the same place,” I
said”Would you trade one for the other in any
case? Your eyesight for the occasional
thoughtwave?”
“God, no!” he said, then looked around the caff
with an ironic, despairing, head-cocked smile”I
can’t believe we’re having this discussion, you
knowI keep thinking I’ll wake up and it’ll all
be as you were, Private Wireman, assume the
position
I looked him in the eye
x
751
According to the Weekly Echo, Baby Elizabeth (as
she was referred to almost throughout) began her
artistic endeavors on the very first day of her
at-home convalescenceShe quickly went on,
“gaining skill and prowess with each passing hour,
it seemed to her amazed father She started with
colored pencils (“Sound familiar?” Wireman asked),
before progressing to a box of watercolors the
bemused John Eastlake brought home from Venice