She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. If you were ten years younger, you'd have me wondering. There it is. ” “Well, fuck you too. “I’m sorry! Mary! Are you hurt?” “No. They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. Nevertheless it was overwhelming. I want to shout! I want to sing! I am glad! I am glad to be alive because you are alive! I am glad to be a woman because you are a man! I am glad! I am glad! I am glad! I thank God for life and you. That’s about the beginning. "This is the explanation of the bloody deed. " "The pianist?" "Yes.
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