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The boy was near a growed man when he died.

Yes mam. I’m sorry you’ve had such troubles.

Mm-hmm. Sorry. Don’t need sorry. Not in this house. Sorry laid the hearth here. Sorry ways and sorry people and heavensent grief and heartache to make you pine for your death.

"...watching the sun bleed across the east,"

She listened for a bird or for a cricket. Something she might know in all that dark.

The sun rose and climbed to a small hot midpoint in the sky. In the yard the man’s shadow pooled at his feet, a dark stain in which he stood.

"Can you hear anything. Ear?"

The man can write. Wow.

"...just as he was cracking apart the first white-flame carbons of the evening into sky-drilling beams of pure arc light."
I mean, goddamn.

تریلی‌هایی با تاب‌ تحمل کون پشه:))

...huge double and triple trailer rigs that loved to find Volkswagens laboring up grades and go sashaying around them gracefully and at gnat’s-ass tolerances...

"Recall from broken banks the color of earth breaking into clear pool water her eyes; the figure blinking her eyes and speaking."

Pure Sci Fi poetry.

نمی‌دونم چه حکمت، رسم، سنت یا قانون نانوشته‌ای پشتش هست که ترجمه باید سخت‌فهم‌تر از متن اصلی بشه