The front door closed and the noise slammed into his brain like a locomotive.Humming happily to himself, Harry entered the kitchen. Greg would have gl...red at him, but it hurt too much to move his face. Excited about what he had just done, Harry was in a very good mood. Spotting his father at the table, he said, “Hi, Dad.”Greg cringed and couldn’t decide if it would be better to yell at Harry or crawl under the table. Instead, all he managed was a barely heard, “Shhh.”“Oh, sorry Dad,” Harry said. ‘But I don’t want to sell the apartment, I don’t want to have to move. Where are you going?’ his brain had finally engaged with what was going on in the words she’d let out. She was always economical with words, like everything else, whereas he used to pour them out as if he had an endless supply, as if they bred inside him. When he was with her though they were so often stillborn, dead before they could make the journey from wherever they originated up and out through his mouth, to fall on. More

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