Fuzz closed his eyes. What he contemplated within the purple darkness of his eyelids was what he really considered the cruelest fact of life—that sacrifices were really sacrifices. In caring for his mother, he had lost a great deal.

Fuzz was reluctant to open his eyes, for he knew that what he would see in Francine’s face would not please him. What he would see in Francine’s heavenly face, he knew, would be the paltriest of all positive emotions, which is respect. And mixed with that respect, inevitably, would be a wish to be away from a man who was so unlucky and dull.

1 year ago  /  1 note