I sigh inside, so exhausted by these ugly questions, but when did a monster ever deserve its privacy?
Isaac MarionHere it comes. My inevitable death, ignoring me all those years when I wished for it daily, arriving only after I've decided I want to live forever.
Isaac MarionHe is spent. His mind is mercury again, its brief surge of humanity melting into an oily residue on its surface, and he no longer understands the feelings he felt in that strange moment on the overpass. But he did feel them. They did happen. They rest on the murky seabed of his mind, buried under sand and silt and miles of grey waves. Patient seeds waiting for light.
Isaac Marion