The grasses toss and shimmy. The horses nicker. Madame Manec says, almost whispering, Now that I think about it, child, I expect heaven is a lot like this.
The simplest way to lose your soul is to go with the flow because the flow is naturally down. Only live fish can swim against the current. Dead ones just conform to it.
The whole day was like that. I wish I could do it justice as I’m writing about it. I feel like I could use all of the words that I have in my head times each and never be able to tell exactly what it was like.
