ass,  teps to t mig my manuscript. My bedroom y. In our sons room anot no glass littered t ttered from t. to clear my  for a moment on t for tion, and ts of Edess filled me  it, rue nature? I pulled at my  ill my scalp acoget noened to unravel.

    In team billo into tumbled to s off ter. On t mirror, someone . Copied above, note for note,  measure of my score.

    quot;You little fuckers,quot; I said to myself as the mirror.

    After a restless and lonesome nigo my mot immediately ans s still be asleep, and  over to to look in. From tcanding to her.

    quot;Doors never locked,quot; s; brings you ;

    quot;Good morning. Cant a guy come and see  girl?quot;

    quot;O I fry you a couple of eggs?quot; S tove, and I sat at tcable, its surface pocked  from dropped pots and pans, nicked by knives, and lined  impressions of letters ten t stirred memories of our first breakfast together.

    quot;Sorry I ; s;I ying up loose ends. Is everyt ;

    I empted to tell  ook atle German boy snatcale of tolen score. But soo care tory . Noneto tell someone, at least provisionally, of my past errors and t to commit.

    quot;Ive been under a lot of pressure lately. Seeing t truly myself. Like Im being follo;

    quot;Folloroubles is ty conscience.quot;

    quot;ed. And Ive got to sort it out.quot;

    quot;o my prayers. And o sing you to sleep every nigest trying to sing along  you could never carry a tune. t certainly co you t nig;

    quot;It is like