"Forgive me," she said, as if the words were being offered on a tray.
Horace tried to return to normal. He stood at the lip of the quarry more than once and stared into the hollow and felt the absence like a missing tooth. Nights were thicker. Without the slab in his workshop, the house grew louder with the ordinary sounds of plumbing and the jitter of insects. He found himself waking sometimes with the taste of mineral on his tongue. when rocks cry out horace butler pdf