As time passes, my father struggled for more to hold on to, asking me again and again: had I told him everything. And I finally said to him, "maybe all I know about Paul is that he was a fine fisherman." "You know more than that," my father said; "he was beautiful." And that was the last time we spoke of my brother's death.
As time passes, my father struggled for more to hold on to, asking me again and again: had I told him everything. And I finally said to him, "maybe all I know about Paul is that he was a fine fisherman." "You know more than that," my father said; "he was beautiful." And that was the last time we spoke of my brother's death.
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