That night, stargazing on the deck with Dad, eyes on the sky, he pointed out Orion, Betelgeuse. "It's an art to read the stars, baby."I never wanted to leave his side-my sure song for so long. Now? His eyes are stone changed. Just looking at them hurts my heart.

All the inane, meaningless noises people make that pass for intelligent conversation. They might as well be pigs grunting in the pen. (92)