He had to admit that I was alive, that I was someone. I wanted him to boast about me to the customers tomorrow. That would make it all real. If he knew I was his son, then I would be a person.
With all the things I had learned—in all the languages I had mastered—all I could say to her, standing on the porch staring at me, was, "Maaaa." Like a dry-mouthed lamb at the udder.
WHAT IF I K1LLED MYSELR
— Dec 23, 2025 01:53AM
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